The Lost History of Scathach and Joan of Arc
by IOU1882
Summary: Scathach and Joan. Shadow and Arc. This is the lost history of two warriors who will become sisters! Takes place before and after the series...but mostly before. This story will take you way, way, way back. When there were dragons and knights and castles. Dedicated to two of my most favorite characters:)
1. Prologue

**Welcome to another one of my amazing fanfics. This is the lost history of two of the greatest warriors ever, featuring Scathach and Joan of Arc. I own nothing of this first chapter! It all belongs to Michael Scott, who is amazing by the way. Other characters introduced in this story are real historical figures, who might not be as famous as Joan and Scatty. So enjoy!:)**

**BTW I did a lot of research for this, so you can trust some of the accurateness.**

**An excerpt from The Death of Joan of Arc:**

This physician is trying to kill me!

Certainly his treatments are much worse than what ails me! He comes in each day with his poultices and potions, an pronounces me a little better everyday.- Richard imagines that when I leave this earth, he will inherit everything, but he is wrong. My fortune will go to my youngest son, William, who followed me into the army and fought valiantly for England in the wars against France that we certainly could not win.

In truth, there is little wrong with me, except for the seventy years that lay heavily upon my bones, and some old wounds which troubled me in damp weather. And seventy-or might it be seventy-one- is a goodly age in this, the Year of Our Lord, 1481.

I have few regrets. There was a girl I should have married, a war that I should never have fought in, a loaf of bread I should have shared, a lie to which I should never have listened. And there was a story I should have told. It is time to tell it while I still can.

No doubt you will have been told the tale of the death of the Maid of Orleans. I have heard accounts told by people who were not there, those who were either too young or too cowardly to have fought in that terrible war. I have listened to their boasts and their lies, and never once was I tempted to question them, to call them liars. Perhaps I should have.

I know what happened on that day, the last day of May, in the Year of Our Lord, 1431 in Rouen. I was there.

-From the last will and testament of William of York, this day, the 13th day of October 1481.

* * *

William followed a trail of devestation. through the narrow, filthy streets. Scores of English footsoldiers and archers lay on the ground. A knight in armor had been flattened into the muddy road, the steel plate dented with the impression of the horse's hooves. Another knight in chainmail lay crumpled in an akward heap against a broken door, the metal links sliced apart, torn like cloth. A huge German mercenary sat in a dirty pool of water, his face the color of parchment. He was holding the stump of a shattered sword in both hands; the remaining chunk of metal lay half buried between his feet.

William rounded a corner and suddenly found himself in the town square. Hundreds of people had crowded into the Vieux-Marche in Rouen earlier that day to watch the execution. Guards armed with staves and sticks had kept them away from the huge funeral pyre, while more soldiers patrolled the mob, looking for trouble makers. There were archers on the roofs of the surrounding buildings, and mounted knights in the side streets. And despite the terrible event that was about to take place, there had been a carnival atmosphere, with jugglers and minstrels, food vendors and poets moving through the crowd.

Now it was chaos. Up to that moment, William had wanted to believe that the girl on the black horse was human. Now he knew she was not.

The armored horse carved a path through the mob, right up to the tall pillar in the center of the square. Joan was tied to the pillar, and stood, eyes close, faced turned to the sky as Geoffroy Therage, the executioner, piled tall bundles of fire-dry wood around her. The fire had been lit, and crackling flames and twisting black smoke were curling around the girl. Her clothes had started to smolder. The red-haired warrior leapt of her horse and sliced her way through the soldiers, her curved swords blurring so fast, that they reflected morning light until it as if they blazed.

William saw the Frenchwoman open her eyes and look down. And then her face lit up with a brilliant smile. He saw her lips move and formed a single word, a name. Later, much, much later, Geoffroy Therage told him she had said the word "Scathach".


	2. Chapter 1

**The second chapter! Better write it down before my train of thought derails, as it usually does. So please read, like, and review! If you need to criticize, please for God's sake do it gently. **

Friday, May 30, 2008 Paris

The savory scent of fresh meat and food and spices filled the home of Saint-Germain, and his wife, Joan of Arc. The Count is away at a concert that night. Josh, Sophie, and the Warrior Maid Scathach is spending the weekend with them.

Josh and Sophie were in the living room, doing a puzzle. "I'm starving", said Sophie as her stomach let out a deep rumble.

"Me, too", said Josh. "I haven't eaten anything since we got here." So Josh got up and went towards the kitchen. He opened the door a crack and asked, "Is dinner ready, yet?"

"Not yet!",called back Joan who was standing over a stove boiling some noodles.

"Just give us a few more minutes, will you?",called back Scathach, who was rolling some dough."We'll call you when it's ready."

"Sure thing",said Josh sheepishly. Then he closed the door.

"So is dinner ready yet?",asked Sophie.

"Sorry, sis",replied Josh who was going over to a book shelf.

"Man, I wish we would've gone to Saint-Germain's concert",said Sophie as she continued on the puzzle.

"Yeah, me too",said Josh. With his one hand, he grabbed a large black book from the shelf. It was titled Photo Album. _Well this should be interesting._ He thought. So opened to a random page, and out dropped a small photograph."Huh? What's this?", wondered Josh as he reached down to pick it up.

On the photograph was two young women who he immediately recognized to be Joan and Scatty. They were wearing ceremonial 14th century clothing, and are standing in front of what appeared to be Rheims Cathedral in northern France. Around them, were many cheering and smiling people, dressed in the same fashion of that era. There was also another man farther to the right. Josh thought that he must be the 'king, because he was wearing a crown, the royal mantle of France, and holding the royal staff of France.

"Hey, Soph, come look at this!",called Josh, motioning for his sister to come over. So Sophie got off the couch and quickly walked over to where Josh was standing.

"What is it, Josh?" Josh pointed to the photograph.

"Look at this picture, it looks Medieval."

Sophie gazed at the photograph for a while. "You know, I think that this taken when Charles VII is crowned King of France!",she exclaimed."See, that's him right there."

"Ohhhh...so it's his coronation!",said Josh.

"Yeah, and Joan was the one who got him there. Scatty also once mentioned that she fought with Joan, so she might have been there, too", continued Sophie, as she ran her fingers over Joan's and Scatty's faces.

"Wait!",exclaimed Josh. "If this happened in the 14th century, then how could..."

Just as he was talking, the door flung open and there stood, in all his rock-and-roll greatness, was the Count! "Hello, everybody, I'm home!",he chorused.

"Francis!"both of them called. They soon were in his arms, hugging a embracing. "Francis, dude, how was the concert?",asked Josh as he speedily led Francis to the couch and sat him down.

"Fantastic!It was simply marvelous!",answered the Count cheerily as he removed his sunglasses.

"Awww, too bad we couldn't make it",said Sophie.

At her words, a broad grin came onto Saint-Germain's face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a DVD case. "Here",he said as he extended out to them."Now you can watch and experience my raw talent!"

"Thank you very much",they both chimed.

Just then, Joan called out, "Francis? You're home already?"

"Oui, ma cherie!",he replied.

" Hold on, I'm almost done." Moments later, Joan came out from the kitchen. "Welcome home...again",she said as she hugged him warmly.

"You know, sometimes I just wish that I could fake my death again and stay at home with you",said Francis as he hugged her back.

Soon, Scathach came into the living room, red hair glistening in the light of the house. "So I see that you had a good time, right?",asked Scatty as she heartily pat his back.

"It was just like any other concert I have performed:awesome",replied Francis shakily as he rubbed his back. He then walked back and sat on the couch.

"Here, Francis, have some coffee",said Joan as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him, before sitting down right beside him.

"Thank you, darling",said Francis as he brought the cup up to his lips.

Just then, Josh remembered the photograph. So he picked it and brought it over to Scatty. "Oh, this is just a picture we've taken. Time travel",explained Scatty shortly.

"Really? You actually went back in time to get this picture? Why?",asked Josh confused.

"Because",said Joan who was now standing next to Scatty."We were working on a scrapbook about all our adventures together. Wait here, I'll go get it!" Then she bounded up the stairs.

Moments later, she returned with the scrapbook in her hands."So here it is. Our scrapbook."

Everyone gathered around the couch. Francis and Scathach sat on either side of her, while Josh and Sophie looked from behind. Then Joan began to point at the pictures. "See? Here is the picture of my childhood home, Domremy. These people here are my parents."

"Hey, and there are your brothers",said Scatty, pointing to two boys.

"Ohhhh,and is that Orleans?",asked Francis excitedly."I've only visited there once."

Joan nodded. "Yep. And here is the battle of Orleans."

"I think that is when we attacked the fort of Les Tourelles. The one when you got wounded?",said Scatty.

"Yes, I think so,too. It was one of the most painful moments of my life",replied Joan. A slight frown came upon her demeanor, but it soon passed.

"Hey, Joan! Who are those handsome guys?",asked Sophie. Joan and Scatty laughed a little at her eager question.

"Those 'handsome guys' were our friends. The one on the left is Jean de Metz. The taller one next to him is Bertrand de Poulengy. They both accompanied me and Scathach to Chinon to see the king."

"And the one on the right",chimed in Scatty."Is Jean d' Aulon, the head Squire."

"What about those old men?",asked Josh pointing to a group of old knights.

"For your information, those 'old men' were some of the important commanders of the army",replied Joan."The one in the middle is the Duke of Alencon, the king's cousin, and one of my closest friends. The one on the right is Jean Dunois, the son of the Duke of Orleans. We had some arguments about tactics, but were still friends."

"And the one on the left with the scar, is old La hire!",exclaimed Scatty."That guy could swear and curse for days on end!"

Joan shook her head. "Oh, La Hire. You know how hard it was to stop him from swearing? It took a lot of chewing out from me, and some muscle work from Scatty."

"Who's the one with the goatee?", asked Francis.

"Oh, that's just Gilles de Rais. He was sort of an odd character back then",answered Joan.

"That guy gave me the creeps",commented Scatty.

"Yes, but now he's changed a lot",said Joan."The Duke, Dunois , La Hire, and Gilles are immortals now."

Everyone was surprised."Immortals? How?"

Joan grinned."Apparently, Gilles found an immortality potion buried inside a wooden chest on his estate. After drinking some of it, he shared the rest with the others. I know, because we keep in touch sometimes."

"Well now that you mentioned it, they do look a bit familiar",said Francis as he looked at the picture more closely.

"They were at the wedding, silly!",said Joan.

"What?!",exclaimed Scathach. Francis's face lit up.

"Ohhh, yes! I remember now! And wasn't La Hire the one who jumped in the cake while drunk?"

"Apparently so, Francis",answered Joan."He did say he was sorry...once he was sober."

Scatty crossed her arms. "So who else was at this wedding that I wasn't at?"

Francis began counting on his fingers. "Lets see...there was Marco Polo, Beethoven...Mark Twain and Virginia Wolf...and Boadicea."

Scatty raised an eyebrow in question. "Boadicea?" "Yeah...she sort of was your replacement",replied Joan awkwardly.(Boadicea- Celtic queen who rebelled against the Romans. Had a strong will and reddish hair.)

"Well, you two have some quite interesting friends", said Sophie.

"Just one of the many perks of being immortal", replied the Count cheerily.

"Hey! Look, those are the Scottish commanders",exclaimed Scatty.

"Scottish? I didn't know they had Scottish soldiers",said Josh.

"The brotherhood between France and Scotland runs deep, Josh. We both helped each other when we are being pushed around by England",said Joan solemnly.

"Look, there's an empty pocket there",said Sophie. "Oh yeah",exclaimed Joan."This was supposed to go here." She then took the picture from Josh and slipped it into the empty pocket. "There, now it's complete. Then she closed the book and got up.

"Wait! Can you tell us the story of your adventures?",pleaded Francis, Josh, and Sophie. Joan gave Scathach a questioning look.

"I'm willing if you are."

Joan smiled and turned her attention back to the others. "Fine, but after dinner, alright?"

"Hooray!"Then they all rushed passed them and into the kitchen. Both women looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Then, Francis stuck his head out the door. "Um...what's for dinner?"

"Spaghetti and breadstick",they both answered. He nodded and slipped back in again.

"Well, I guess we better get in there before they all choke on their food",said Joan as she and Scathach headed for the kitchen.

**I know what you're all thinking. WHAAA?! They can go back in time and take pictures?! **

**So what you think? Funny, great, suspenseful? Pretty good so far right? So please review and tell me what you think! PLLLEEAAASE:)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Dinner's over! Just so you know, this is basically the history of Joan of Arc, with Scathach and auras, and magic mixed into this. So some things might not be accurate. Reviews and suggestions are welcome. Enjoy! :). **

After dinner, all of the immortals gathered around in the living room. Francis, Joan, and Scathach sat on the couch, while Josh and Sophie were in chairs. Joan took a deep breath before saying, "So, you want to know Scatty's and I adventures?" Francis, Sophie, and josh nodded. "Yes! We need to know!" "It's been so long, and my memories are a bit blurry, so Scatty and I will tell it together." Then she turned to look at Scatty,who smiled and popped her knuckles. "Gladly!"

"Yay! Story time!",they all cheered. Soon, Joan signaled for silence, and the whole room went quiet. Then she and Scatty leaned in real close and began to tell their story. "It all started a loooong time ago..."

* * *

"...It all began in the Year of Our Lord, 1429."

January 6, 1429 Domremy

It is a cold, dark, and rainy night in the early days of January. A lone figure approaches the home Jacques d' Arc, mayor of the village. The dark figure is dressed in the crude armor of that time, twin swords hanging from the belt. His/her face is covered by hood attached to a heavy woolen cloak. From an onlooker's perspective, it would look just like any wandering soldier of that time, for there was a war going on.

It is a cruel and bloody war, over the throne and possession of France, raging for almost a hundred years now. The English has the upper hand, due to their alliance with the Duke of Burgundy, a treacherous Frenchman. The French commanders spent just as much time arguing and carousing than fighting the enemy. While his people suffer, and with his crown at stake, the young and insecure Dauphin(crown prince of France)Charles spent much of his time hiding in one of his many gloomy castles with his 'wise' advisers around him. His lethargy wasn't his fault, though. No, it was his mother's fault. After his father went mad, and after King Henry won the battle of Agincourt, his mother soon declared him illegitimate and handed France over to Henry in the Treaty of Troyes. That crushed his spirit. (His mother was a *beep* whore) But fortunes soon changed, as a few months later, Henry died unexpectedly. Two months after that, Charles father died and the throne was once more vacant. The English and their Burgundian supporters declared Henry's nine month old son(They just wouldn't let go won't they?) the true King of both France and England. The French countermanded their claim by declaring Charles as the real heir to the throne.(He could not be properly crowned, because the enemy controlled Rheims, the sacred city for French coronations)

So the war raged on, with the English getting ever so closer to controlling all of France. Soon, they decided to push on even farther by laying siege to Orleans, and important French city along the Loire River. If they could take it, then the rest of southern France would be theirs for the taking! So under the command of some of their best commanders, the English army constructed giant stone fortresses around Orleans, from where they bombarded the city with their cannons.(Yes, they did have cannons at that time) Once again the Dauphin did nothing. The citizens of Orleans were without hope and were quickly running out of supplies. The garrison stationed there were idle and immobilized. The fate of France hung in the balance, and the situation looks extremely bleak.

But soon, there was a prophecy brewing among the French people. They swore to God that Merlin have foreseen it himself! The prophecy stated, that France would be lost by a queen(Charles's whore mother) and would be save by a maiden(Joan) from the province of Lorraine(Where Domremy is). Then, in 1423, that prophecy began to come true. Thirteen year old Joan was tending a flock of sheep(she hated being called a shepherdess/cowgirl) when the most amazing thing happened to her! Right in front of her was the Archangel Michael, glowing in all of his heavenliness. It was so bright, that it made her cover her eyes. "Joan of Arc, God has chosen you to lead your people to victory in this war against England. The Lord have seen enough of Christian blood spilled due to all this senseless violence. Daughter of God, go forward towards your destiny, for it is now up to you to end this war!" His voice was deep and calming, and pretty soon Joan got used to it. He then told her to continue being a good girl, and that Saint Margaret and Catherine(ancient Christian martyrs) will soon visit her with further instructions. Then he vanished, leaving a stunned Joan awestruck. She didn't bother to share her experience with others, keeping it a secret. The Archangel spoke truthfully, for the next day when she was praying, the two saints came and visited her. They told her that she she must leave her village, lead the French army to victory at Orleans, and crown the Dauphin in Rheims. Despite her protestations, they reassured her that God will be looking over her on her mission. So then four more years passed, and Joan still have not told a single soul about her experiences with angels and saints. As the English laid siege to Orleans, Joan knew that she would have to act fast. So she began to secretly plan for a way to leave her village and see the Dauphin. However, she knew that she could not accomplish this alone. No, she she will need the help of a very special friend.

* * *

So the mysterious figure cautiously approached the door of the humble wooden home, and knocked on the door.

**To be continued...**

**Okay, so this was just to inform you about the events and situations of the time so that you can understand the story more. So anyways, the next chapter will be updated as quickly as possible. Please review! :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Okay so the first part of their mission is to get to Vaucouleurs, the closest big town near to her village. There, they will try to convince the captain/governor of the town, Robert de Baudricourt, a grumpy and hardheaded old man, who does not believe that a peasant girl could possibly save France. He's wrong. So they'll try to convince him to give Joan an escort to see the king. Just one problem...they need to find away without her parents knowing...for now. And Joan knows one man for the job.**

Still January 6, 1429 Domremy

The door opened and a middle-aged man came out. He was wearing the garb of peasants, but was in some better condition, as in his role as leader of this village. Black/gray hair fell no lower than to his shoulders. His face was wrinkled, dominated be his thin nose and sleepy brown eyes. "Yes, hello? How can we help you?"

The dark cloaked figure glared over his shoulder for a moment, taking a glance at his wife and children inside. There were three older boys, two have brown hair while one is dirty blonde. The blonde had freckles on his slightly suntanned face. They were gathered at a table having a conversation as it seems, before the door was knocked. Near the fire, a woman with her head covered by a large piece of cloth was spinning and sewing. Sitting near her were two girls, one a teenager and the other looking no more than seven or eight. The teenager had long beautiful auburn hair and large blue eyes. She smiled.

The figure nodded slightly and reverted his/her attention back to the man at the door. "Are you the mayor of this village?",asked the cloaked figure in an unusual deep voice.

"Why, yes I am. What can I do for you?",replied the man in archaic French of that region. The mysterious person coughed. "I...I am a soldier on leave, sir. Would you be so kind, but to let me stay here for the night?"

Jacques d' Arc, out of the kindness of his heart, readily agreed to house the wandering soldier for night. "Why of course I will let you stay here!",exclaimed Jacques as he hurried the armored figure inside the house and out of the rain. "It would be my pleasure to help a fellow Christian such as yourself."

As soon as Jacques closed the door, his wife rushed over and guided the stranger over to the table. The boys who were sitting there quickly got up and made way. "Welcome to our home!",said the woman warmly. "My name is Isabelle Romee(Women didn't take their husbands' last name back then) and that man is my husband, Jacques d' Arc."

"And these are our sons, Jacques Jr., Pierre, and John",said the Jacques d' Arc with his arms around the boys' shoulders. Then the two girls rose up and did a kind of little curtsy, as the custom when meeting a new guest.

"Those are our daughters. The elder one is named Jeanne, who just turned seventeen today!",explained the Frenchwoman. "The youngest one is named Catherine."

The stranger nodded and said,"Thank you. It is very pleasurable to met you all."

"So are you hungry, hmm? Would you like something to eat?", asked Isabelle.

"Umm..."

"How about some stew, or chicken?",added Jacques. The cloak figure calmly stood up. "Actually, all I want to do now is go to sleep, for I am very tired." Both parents looked at each other for a moment. They whispered something to each other in French(BTW All dialogues are French), but hardly audible.

Then Jacques d' Arc turned back to their guest and said kindly, "Of course! There is a nice spare room up in the attic. We hope that you will be comfortable." He then turned to look at Jeanne. "Jeanne, please show our guest to his room."

"Yes, father",answered the girl obediently. So the girl lead their guest up the stairs, with the eyes of her brothers following them all the way.

"Poor lad",said the one called Jacques Jr. sadly."Having to fight for France in this terrible war."

"Do you think the Dauphin himself will rise up and fight?", asked the younger one named Pierre.

"BAH!",exclaimed their father as he angrily slammed his fist on the table."That coward of a Dauphin wouldn't move an inch! Even if the Gondons(French term for English soldiers at that time. It was in reference to their frequent use of the word "Goddamnit") were running amok and are slaughtering our kind for holiday sport, like they are now!"

"Now calm down, dear,"said the Frenchwoman gently."Here have some wine." The man took the cup and began to gulp it down. "But father, what about the prophecy?",said the youngest named John.

Jacques wiped his mouth with back of his hand. "You want to know what I think? I think that it's going to take a lot more than a petty prophecy to save us now! So what if the part about France being lost by a queen came true?" He scoffed. "But a maiden coming to save us? That would never happen."(I would bet him a billion dollars$$$ that it will happen) ;)

* * *

Attic

The door to the attic opened and in stepped Joan and the mysterious stranger. "Welcome to our guest room",said Joan as she would say to any other guest, as she closed the door behind them.

"Nice place you got here",said the stranger in a familiar voice."It hasn't change a bit since I last stayed here. Well, maybe except for less cobwebs." The person was walking around the room, examining it. The walls were made of a mixture of mud and straw, while a thatch roof was up overhead. There were few furniture in the room. Only a bed next to small square window, which was basically just a hole in the wall, a small wooden table with some stools, and a bench jutting from one of the walls.

"You can take off the disguise now, Scatty",said Joan. The cloaked figure immediately turned around to face her.

"Oh yeah. Right." So then the figure removed the hood, revealing the face of a girl with pale skin and freckles, looking no more than seventeen. In truth, she was really over 10,000 years old. Long, flowing red hair and glass green eyes dominated her face. There was a toothy smile on her face. Joan let out a squeal of delight before hugging Scatty. "Thank you so much for coming",she whispered.

Scatty immediately hugged her friend back. "I came as soon as I got your message. I would do anything for you, Joan. Oh, and happy birthday."

Then the two girls let go of each other. "So, we're going to kick some English ass?",asked Scatty mischievously.

A slight grin formed on Joan's lips. "Yes, yes we are",she said determined. "What's the plan?",asked Scatty, reaching for her twin swords.

Joan went over to bed and pulled out a map from from under the pillow. Then she went over to the table, gesturing for Scatty to come over. Joan unrolled the map and began pointing to places of interest. "First, we'll need go to Vaucouleurs. The captain and governor of the town, Robert de Baudricourt, will be the one to give us an escort to Chinon, where the Dauphin is."

"Let me guess, he's one of those men who are skeptical about everything right?",asked Scatty.

"Right. We must convince him at all cost. Next,we'll need to go to Orleans and raise the siege."

"You know, that siege could have been lifted ages ago if those French commanders would stop fighting like children and actually work together",commented Scathach. Joan nodded. "I know. So once we kick them out of Orleans, we will take the Dauphin to Rheims to be crowned King of all France."

"Sounds easy enough!",exclaimed Scatty as she laid herself down on the bed."Just one problem. How can we get to Vaucouleurs without your parents catching us?" Joan went over to the window and looked across to the church. *Ding dong ding dong*A chruch bell rang in the distance, indicating midnight."Oh, don't worry. My Uncle Laxart(Actually a cousin, but is old enough to be her uncle) is coming over for a visit soon", she reassured her.

"Who's Uncle Laxart?",asked Scatty as she looked up at the thatch ceiling above.

"Remember? My mother's niece got married to him last year. I told you about it."

"Oh yeah! By scrying." Then she pulled herself up and brushed back her long hair."Speaking of marriage, I am going to be your Maid of Honor at your wedding right?"

Joan blushed a little. "Well, of course you will! But truth is, I'm not ready to get married for a long, long, long time. Not while my country's freedom is at stake."She then paused to think for a few seconds. "Although, it would be nice to settle down and have a nice family blessed by God one day. I just need to find the right person, certainly not an arrogant, boastful, and dangerous fool."

Joan smiled at her friend who smiled back. "So...have you practiced using your aura lately?"

Joan lit up instantly. "Why, yes I have! I absolutely love having a silver aura, except for the fact that I can't share it with anyone. How's your grandmother the Witch of Endor? I haven't seen her since you took me to her to be Awakened", she added rapidly.

Scatty was taken by surprise by that question. She haven't seen her grandmother herself for a few years now. "My grandmother? Oh, yeah, she was well the last time I saw her. She has good thoughts about you, Joan."

Joan seemed flattered by the fact that the Witch liked her. "Well then, that's very kind of her", she said.

"Anyways...do you know how to shape armor with it?",asked Scatty. Joan stood up in front of Scatty, and began to conjure her aura. Silver sparks raced through her body, running of her fingers and sparkling in her hair. For a millisecond, her eyes became silver disks, and in a final flash of power, silver and almost whitish armor formed on her body, covering her from head to foot. Then the silver sparks were gone.

Joan still in her armor, removed her helmet to look upon Scatty's obviously amazed face. "Does that answer your question?", said Joan, couldn't help but laugh at her friends face.

"Absolutely",she said smiling."Great work." Pleased with herself, Joan gave a little bow before snapping her fingers, which cause her armor to vanish completely.

"I'll use this as a last resort to convince people of my mission...and maybe to give the English a good scare once or twice." She then went and sat back down.

"And where's your sword? Have you been practicing with it?" Joan nodded proudly.

"It's hidden away in a chest under this bed. I also practiced fighting with it with the free time I have." Joan smirked. "And I also think I'm pretty good at it." Scatty smirked. "Oh really? Then maybe when the time's appropriate, you can prove it. I was your teacher anyways",she added. Joan rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatever you want, great Scathach the Shadow."

Their conversation was cut short by a knock at the door downstairs. "That must be him!",exclaimed Joan jumping up. "Stay here, I'll come back later." Then she went out the door and was gone.

* * *

Back Downstairs

Joan bounded down the stairs as quickly as she could. When she got to the living room, Uncle Laxart was already giving out hugs and well wishes. "Laxart, you old goat! How are you?",exclaimed Jacques as he heartily pat him on the back.

"Fine, well! How about you?"

"Good, good!", replied Jacques."Ah, it is so well to see you!" Laxart was about the same age as Jacques, with an elderly face framed by shoulder length black hair. His slightly slender form was hidden under a thick wool doublet(Long shirt with sleeves held with a belt at the waist) and worn pants.

Then Isabelle came over and placed a finger to her lips. "Shhh! Jacques, you wouldn't want to wake up our guest, would you?"

"Oh, yes, we'll be careful to be quiet tonight."

"Uncle Laxart!",exclaimed Joan as she went to hug her uncle."Glad to see you are well." He hugged her back.

"Why is this Little Jeanne? Look how much you grew!"

"Yes she have",said her mother proudly."She just turned seventeen today."

"Well then happy birthday",he said as he returned her to the ground."May God bless you with a happy new year."

"Thank you very much",replied Joan happily.

"Ah, and I see that your sons have grown much too!"

"Thank you, uncle",they said together."God bless you."

"Ah, God bless everyone!",exclaimed Laxart as he took a seat at the table."Isabelle, may I have a cup of wine, please?"

"Of course, Laxart!",said the Frenchwoman as she poured some wine from a decanter."Here you go, enjoy."

"Thank you very much",replied Laxart as he brought the cup up to his mouth. Joan moved to sit by the fire next to her sister, where she listened to the adults talk. "So how is your wife?",asked Jacques to Laxart as he sat down across from him."Is she well?"

Laxart put down the cup and there was a slight smile on his face. "Yes, she is faring well. For the Lord has blessed us with a child!" Everyone was stunned and happy at the big news.

"Oh, how wonderful!",exclaimed Isabelle delightedly. "Congratulations! You are going to be a great father",said Jacques.

"We are so happy for you!",added Joan's brothers. Joan herself was quite joyous with the news. _So they're having a baby. May God bless his wife and child with good health.(_Childbirth was very dangerous back then)

"Do you have any help for when the baby comes?",asked Isabelle.

"Actually, her mother has come to help with the baby",replied Laxart."But I'm afraid that now in her old age, we might need an extra set of hands."

At his words, an idea went off in Joan's mine and she jumped up exclaiming,"I could help!" All eyes were turned on her. Realizing her sudden outburst, Joan sat down blushing. "I mean...I would love to help your wife with the baby,"she added more softly. "If father would let me." She looked intently into her father's eyes.

"I don't know, Jeanne...how can I be sure that you won't try to go to Vaucouleurs again?"

Joan persisted."Please father? I promise that I will not try to go to Vaucouleurs. Please?" A deep pain flashed across Joan's chest. She hates to lie, especially to her parents. But God wants her to go and save her country, and she could never disobey Him. _They will understand someday._

Jacques d' Arc rubbed his chin and though about it for a moment, then said,"Alright Joan, you may go. But only for a few days." Joan's pain was gone in a second.

"Oh, thank you father! Thank you!" She then launched herself into his arms. "Be sure to keep an eye on her, Laxart." The uncle smiled and nodded.

"Well, then I guess I better go pack and then to bed",said Joan as she started up the stairs. "Goodnight everyone!" "Goodnight Jeanne!", they all chimed. Once she was out of range, Joan then raced up the stairs to Scatty's room.

In her joy, she flung open the door and cried,"Great news, Scatty!"

At that time, Scatty was busy removing her armor for the night. Her swords laid on the table and her cloak was draped over the back of a chair. Pieces and parts of armor fell with a cling when she fully removed them. Underneath her armor, was a thick padded shirt with some chain-mail patched into it. Her tight pants were also padded and was attached to her shirt with laces. She was just removing her breastplate when Joan came into the room.

"Great news? What is it?",she asked. Joan explained as she walked to the bed.

"First of all, my uncle's wife is having a baby!"

Scathach's face lit up radiantly. "Awww! Congratulations to him and his wife!" She then sat down beside Joan on the bed.

"I know! Isn't that great?" Then her face became more serious. "Anyways, I volunteered to go back with him and help his wife the baby."

Scatty held her hand up."Wait just a minute. How is this going to get us to Vaucouleurs?"

Joan placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Because",she continued,"my uncle's home is near Vaucouleurs. On our way there, I'm going to try and convince him to take me to Robert de Badricourt." Then Joan got up and went towards the door."We'll be leaving tomorrow, so you better get some rest." She turned back and smiled at her friend. "Goodnight Scatty. It's good to have you back."

Scatty kicked off her boots and stretched out on her bed."Goodnight Joan. It's good to be back." Joan nodded and closed the door.

* * *

January 7, 1429

The sun rose from the horizon and the rooster called. After many hugs and loving goodbyes, Joan of Arc took a seat at the front next to her uncle in the waiting ox-drawn cart. Her long auburn hair was covered by a coif(Piece of cloth worn on the head by peasant girls). She was wearing her best red dress and had a shawl draped over her. Her brothers, all three of them, then struggled to lift up her long wooden chest.

"God, Jeanne! What the heck do you have in here?",exclaimed her brother John, his face all red and contorted in frustration.

"Umm...my clothes?",she said awkwardly. This was only her second ever lie. With one last push, they finally managed to get the chest containing Joan's 'clothes' onto the cart. Then they all fell down from exhaustion.

"Hurry up! Get out out of the way",said their father as he pulled each of them up. Then he went over to Laxart who was holding the reins."You remember what I told you right?"

Laxart nodded quickly."Yes I do."

"Good",said the father seriously."Don't let her out of your sight."

Joan looked over her uncle's shoulder to her father. "Goodbye, father! See you in a few days, as you said."

He smiled at her then flashed a quick look at Laxart and went back to where the others were standing. Laxart tightened his grip on the reins. "Alright, lets get..." Just then, the mysterious cloaked figure came out from the house and yelled,"STOP!"

Laxart dropped his reins and turned his head towards the figure. Soon everyone was looking at the figure. The cloaked person approached closer to Laxart, apparently with a limp. "Um...could you please give me a ride? As you can see, I have a bad leg",added the figure in a rough voice as he/she pointed to his/her left leg.

Laxart didn't know what to say but, "Well get on in then! I would be more than happy to help." The figure shook his hand gratefully.

"Thank you. Thank you very much." A few moments later, the figure is sitting on the back of the cart, across from the chest of 'clothes' and right behind Joan.

Laxart tightened his grip on the reins once again. "Alright, _now _are ready. Yaahh!" The reins cracked and the cart started moving.

"Bye! Good luck! See you soon!" They all waved. Joan waved back, a tear starting to form on her eye.

"Joan, are you ok?",whispered Scatty. "Yes, I'm ok. It's ok",she answered whispering.

"My wife's going to be happy to see you Joan",said Laxart cheerily."She have not seen you since the wedding."

"Thank you, uncle',she replied happily."I'm really excited to see her too." Laxart smiled as he looked at the road ahead of them. "Well, then you better get yourself comfortable, because it is going to take a few hours to get home."

As the made their way through the village, many neighbors and friends came out to say goodbye to them. Joan said goodbye to her best friends, Mengette and Hauviatte. She tried to keep in her tears as she did so. There were also the friends that she always ran foot races with...and beaten. She remembered how after every race, they would tell her that her feet flew off the ground. Joan giggled at that thought.

Then it got awkward when they reached Simon Epinal. He was in standing in front of his house, when Joan waved to him. His face began to blush as from embarrassment and he immediately ran into his house. "What's wrong with him?"asked Scatty in a shocked and whispery tone.

Joan grinned and answered, "Last month, he accused me of breaking a promise to marry him, which I certainly did not make",she added."So he took me to court(religious court where a bishop is judge) at Toul and he lost." (That really did happen!) "Huh, then maybe someday you can be a lawyer",humored Scatty.

Once they were a good few miles from Domremy, Joan turned back to take on last look at her childhood home. Her gaze was intense, as if she was trying to print the image forever into her mind. She then looked back towards the road in front of them. She knew somehow that she will never be able to see her home again. Now, she must go forth in God's strength.

**To be continued...**

**BTW 'Arogant, boastful and dangerous fool' was in reference to Saint-Germain. Anybody read the Enchantress?**

**Hooray a long chapter! So yeah, so now they are on their way to Vaucouleurs! This fanfic is way to easy. So pleeeeaaaase reveiw! *Sad classical music* Hello, my name is IOU. I have a serious and deadly medical condition called Review-my-fanficitis. *Cough* So please, review my story, or else I ...wil...die. *Cough, choke, cough* You don't want me to die do you? :C**


	5. Chapter 4

**Welcome back! So in this chapter, I'm kind of going off on a limp here. There is now exact details of Joan's trip to her uncle's house or Vaucouleurs. She did, but there is no exact details and specifics. I already have a sort of outline for this chapter, and I'm too lazy to write it down, so I'm just going to type it now. **

January 7, 1429 3 Hours After Domremy

The wooden ox-drawn cart roughly made its way over the frozen, and snow covered dirt road. Along the road was nothing other than a bunch of leafless trees, except for occasional birds and fox. In her best red dress, Joan of Arc sat in the front seat of the cart next to her goodly Uncle Laxart. She was determined to fulfill her destiny and to follow God's will. Behind them in the cart, sat a mysterious cloaked figure which only Joan knew as Scathach the Shadow, Celtic Warrior Maiden. Directly across from her, was a thin, long wooden box containing Joan's holy sword. The wooden rivets of the cart groaned and rattled under the weight of the travelers. The two poor oxen stuck with pulling the cart along moaned and snorted as their hooves crunched against the bone-chilling snow.

They are on their way to Uncle Laxart's at Bury-le-Petit, which is only about 4 miles from the town of Vaucouleurs. Joan and Scathach's main destination. Now, in the middle of the frosty road, they are stuck with the task of convincing Joan's uncle to take them there. "Pssst, Joan",whispered Scatty.

"What?",said Joan softly"

Well, when are you going to tell your uncle about you-know-what?",persisted Scatty in the same tone."Okay, just give me a minute. I'm a little nervous." Scatty scoffed a little.

"Says the girl who won her own case at court hands-down."

"Is everything alright, back there?",called Joan's uncle.

Scatty fake coughed."Uh...yeah, everything is fine back here!"

"Good then."

Scatty leaned closer to Joan."Tell him now." "Joan

swallowed hard and whispered resolutely,"Alright. Now I'm going to do it." Scatty gave her a quick thumbs up, which made Joan feel less nervous.

Then Joan turned to her uncle and cleared her throat. "Yes, Jeanne! Do you need something?"

Joan squeezed her hands. "Yes uncle, I do need something." She took another a breathe of air before coming out with,"I need you...to take me to Vaucouleurs." Then the cart stopped.

One of the oxen went down. "Yahhh! Come on, now! Yaahh!", yelled Laxart as he vigorously snapped the reins. The cart soon started to move again. "I'm sorry, Joan. What did you say again?"

"I said, I need you to take me to Vaucouleurs and Robert de Baudricourt. Laxart paused to look at her for few moments, and then he burst out laughing."Ha ha ha! That's a great joke, Jeanne!" His laughing ceased once he say the expression on her face. She almost looked as serious as a forty year old. "But you are kidding right?", he stammered.

Joan shook her head."No, uncle, I'm afraid that I am not kidding." Laxart couldn't believe what he was hearing! He wasn't angry with her, just completely shocked. He had known Joan since she was a young girl, and would have never expected for her to break a promise, especially to her parents.

"But, Jeanne, you promised your father that you won't go there!",he persisted.

"But uncle, he will understand. Soon, he will forgive me once he knows why did it",said Joan.

"Good, but what about me?",argued Laxart. "He specifically told me to take care of you! If I fail to do so, then he would break every bone in my body."

Joan grew exasperated. "But father will forgive you, uncle, I promise. Please take me to Vaucouleurs." Laxart only looked away and shook his head.

Joan is clueless on what to say next. _Why can't he just believe me? It's only for the good of France that I'm doing this. _Just then, an idea hit her and she became cheerful. She turned back to her uncle and asked, "Uncle Laxart, have you ever heard of the prophecy?"

Laxart cocked his head, trying to figure out what kind of angle she is playing at. Once he was satisfied that there was no angle to be found, he smiled in relief that the foolish talk of going to Vaucouluers has passed her mind. Which of course it really didn't. "Ah, the prophecy!Yes, I have heard of it, but am not really sure if it will come true",he added sadly."So the prophecy goes like this:France shall be ruined by a woman..."

"...and saved by a Maiden from Lorraine",finished Joan. Laxart looked at his smiling niece for a few moments in silence before finally realizing what she meant.

"You mean..._you _are the Maiden that is destined to save France?" Still smiling, Joan nodded resolutely. Laxart couldn't believe it. "But...how is that possible?",he stammered."You are so simple, so pious, so...feminine."

Joan placed a hand on her uncle's arm and looked intently into his eyes. "God speaks to me",she began. "He speaks to me through the Archangel Michael and Saints Catherine and Margaret." The cart just stopped. Joan could see her uncle''s mouth gaping in amazement as the reins simply slipped through his hands. "They have told me",she continued."that God wants me to raise the siege of Orleans, crown the Dauphin at Rheims, and kick the English out of our lands forever."

For a moment, there was just stone cold silence, as Laxart tried to evaluate her words. "Please, uncle",she said."I'm doing this for God and France."

Then Laxart came right out and said,"I believe in you."

Joan couldn't believe it! She did it! "Really? You do?"

Laxart's face broke into a toothy smile. "Yes I certainly do! Joan, you are a very good and pious child, so why wouldn't He chose you?"

Joan was ecstatic and reached over to hug him. "Thank you! Thank you so much, uncle!" Laxart couldn't help but hug her back.

"Well, a few beatings from your father is a small price to pay for the deliverance of France." They soon let go of each other. "Actually, I'm just happy that once the English are gone, they won't still my chickens!", he added hefty.

Joan just laughed. "You won't have to worry anymore uncle",she reassured him."Once I'm through with them, they'll think twice about setting foot here ever again." Then Laxart began to laugh.

"Oh, I have no doubts about that, Jeanne." He then remembered about their passenger in the back."Uh...what should we do about the old and crusty soldier back there",whispered Laxart to Joan.

"Hey!", exclaimed Scatty."Who are you calling old and crusty?" She then removed her hood, revealing her wild locks of red hair and glass green eyes.

"Whaa?!",exclaimed a flabbergasted Laxart."Who are you?!"

Joan then gestured to Scatty."Uncle, meet Scathach. She is a warrior from Scotland and a good friend of mine.

Scatty then popped her head in between them. "Hello there", she said to Laxart. "Very nice to meet you! I'm Scathach the Shadow, but you can just call me Scatty."

Laxart noticed her vampire teeth and turned as pale was the snow. "Um, very nice...to meet you too",he said shakily.

Scathach only laughed and pat him on the back. "Don't worry! I won't bite! Just ask Joan." Laxart looked back at Joan with a questioning look.

"That's right, uncle",replied Joan cheekily."Scatty might look a little scary...but she is really nice and loyal."

"Yep!",exclaimed Scatty resolutely."In fact, I'm so loyal, that I am going with Joan to wherever she goes, and will protect her against any danger!" Then she winked at Joan.

At Joan's reassurance, Laxart became less afraid of Scathach and shook her hand. "Great!",said Uncle Laxart."We are stuck in the mud!" He tried to urge on the oxen, but they stuggled with each effort, and cart remained stuck.

Scatty jumped to her feet in seconds and declared,"I, Scathach the Shadow, shall use all my strength to push this cart out of the so-called mud!" She then jumped out of the cart and began to push on the cart. Her muscles strained and a few sweat formed on her forehead, despite the freezing temturature. Soon, the cart began to move gradually out of the mud.

"Look! It's moving!",exclaimed Joan excitedly. Eventually, the cart was out of the mud.

"Oh, thank you, Scathach!",exclaimed Laxart gratefully."I really much appreciate your help." "No problem",replied Scatty as jumped back into the cart.

So they went on for a few more miles before Laxart called out, "We're here!"

* * *

Next Morning

Early next morning, the resounding cry of a newborn baby rang throughout the house of Laxart and his wife. Thanks to Joan's help, their new baby son was safely brought into this world. He was immediately baptized(Washed in holy water) and was named Robert.

**Awww! A baby is born! So Joan really did help deliver her aunt's baby, and then she went to Vaucouleurs. No one really knows if the baby was a boy or girl, or what it was named. **

**BTW For my war fanatics, there will eventually be blood, and death, and chaos, and killing and all that good stuff. Hey, it's the Hundred Years War!**

**Also, for fans of my other fanfic, I'll update it very soon so stop pressuring me! :P**

**Thank you! Please REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 5

**So now we are going to mosey-on-down to Vaucouleurs for Joan's first meeting with the old bull Robert de Baudricourt! Be sure to bring tomatoes, because trust me...there are some people who you might want to throw them at. :) Enjoy!**

January 1429, Vaucouleurs, France.

*Thump thump thump* A nerve pounded against Scatty's skull. After staying at Uncle Laxart's house for a few days, he then took them to Vaucouleurs. Right now, Joan and Scatty are standing outside of Baudricourt's castle in the heart of the city. They are waiting for Joan's uncle to get permission for Joan to talk to him. Meanwhile, they had to spend 20 miserable minutes in the gnawing cold atmosphere. Scatty hates the cold, and wrapped her cloak tightly around her body. Joan was only wearing a thin red dress and a cloth shawl. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they paced around the area. A fog of frost forms every time they breath or speak. To get some warmth, Joan and Scatty would vigorously rub their hands together.

"I hate this cold weather!",exclaimed Scatty through chattered teeth."I'm sick of it."

If that wasn't bad enough, they also had to deal with the cruel and annoying remarks from Baudricourt's soldiers, who were always gathered at the castle.

"Go home!",one of them called.

"Hey! Leave the fighting to the men would ya!"They would laugh and snicker after every sly remark that their buddies make.

"Maidens can't win wars! Just go home and darn the socks!" With each garbage that comes out of their mouth, Scatty's patience dwindled. Having to deal with frostbite and pinheads like those wasn't her style.

_If anyone of them says one more dumb thing, I'll explode._

"Just ignore them, Scatty",said Joan quietly."God shall deal with them."

Scatty scoffed. "Oh, yeah? When?" Joan gave her an incredulous look. "Soon."

Scatty rolled her eyes and Joan jabbed her gently on the arm. They could still hear the rude soldiers laughing their heads off at their little social gathering. Scathach allowed a low growl to escape her mouth.

A pause came into the hysterical laughter of the soldiers only for one more nasty insult. "Hey! Redhead! Why don't you come over and work some magic down my ass!" Then the flow of sadistic laughter resumed.

Then Scatty just lost it. The nerve in her head exploded and she turned on them. _AHHH! If that God won't do anything about them, I will! _She unsheathed one of her swords and shouted, "Hey you! Morons! Shut up or come it to my face!" That shut them right up. "Come here and I'll shove this down your ass!",she continued while angrily waving her sword at them.

The terrified soldiers all took a few steps back and began to only murmur among themselves. Scatty still stood there holding her sword, until Joan eased down her arm. "That's enough, Scatty",she said."They're moronic, but can still take a hint."

Scatty unwillingly put away her sword and crossed her arms."I can't believe how Baudricourt could stand to hire scums like those."

Just then, the castle gate opened and Laxart came out. "Uncle, you were gone so long!",exclaimed Joan as a fog formed on her every word."How was it? What did Baudricourt say?"

There was a look of grave excitement on his face when he said,"Well, it took a great deal convincing, but he has finally agreed to see you."

"Finally!",exclaimed Scathach."I can't stand to stand out here any longer. At least there will be decent heat in there."

Joan signaled Scatty to be quiet then turned to her uncle."You've done well, uncle. May God reward you with long life and good health."

Laxart nodded affirmed and said,"May He also bless yours as well, dear niece."

Then the castle gate opened again, and two knight came out. "Joan of Arc",began the first one."The governor, Robert de Baudricourt is currently awaiting your presence."

"We have been given orders to escort you inside",added the second and taller one.

Joan came forward, followed by Scatty and Laxart. "Then lead the way, good sirs." One of the knights turned towards the gate, and signaled for it to be opened.

"Come. Follow us this way",said the first knight as he gestured for them to follow.

So all of them went through the gate, which closed behind them, and into the courtyard of the castle. They went inside through the front door, which was guarded by another set of knights. They went down a long hall, turned left, turned right, and went straight towards a great wooden door. From where they stood, Joan, Scatty and Laxart could hear the sound of music and laughter among the nobles and elite gathered on the other side.

* * *

Meanwhile in the great hall of the castle...

All of the chiefest knights and nobles were gathered in the hall, and were feasting, drinking, and enjoying lively festivities. Among them, were two adventurous young knights, Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulegny. All of them were invited by Baudricourt to witness the spectacle that was to come. There was gaily laughter among the party at the thought of a country maid of about seventeen years in the presence of such a company. One nobleman declared that it is cruel to make her face so many strangers at one time.

"Why man! The girl is clamoring to be taken to see the Dauphin at his Court! If she can't face a score of simple country nobility here, then how could she represent herself at Chinon?",was Baudricourt's retaliation.

Then one of his knights entered the room and made his way towards the banquet table that the governor is sitting at. "What is it, Norman? Have she come?",asked de Baudricourt.

The knight gave a little bow before reporting,"Yes, sire, we have escorted her inside and are awaiting your orders."

Baudricourt took a gulp of his wine before saying, "Then don't just stand there! Bring her in!" The knight stiffened in a salute and began to head out.

Midway, Baudricourt called, "Wait! Who else is with her?"

The knight turned half-way around and answered, "She has in her company, Laxart and a Scottish warrior...maiden, as it seems."

Baudricourt froze for a moment at the words 'Scottish warrior maiden'. "Intriguing. Bring them both in too!"

"Yes, Baudricourt, sir!"

* * *

Back out the hallway...

Joan, Laxart, and Scatty waited patiently in the hallway of Baudricourt's castle. One of the knights who escorted them in stood very still near the door. Seeing that they would be standing there for a while, Scatty decided to chat up the guy. "So, you're a knight, huh?"

The knight was apparently wasn't expecting to be engaged in a conversation. "Well, yes I am."

"Nice sword. Who made it?",asked Scatty as she leaned against the wall next to him. "A sword maker in Milan. Imported, of course",replied the Knight lightly."I'm Andre by the way." Scatty smiled at his sudden openness.

She stretched her arm out and he shook it. "My pleasure to meet you, Andre. My name is Scathach."

Andre took a look back at Joan and Laxart. "You are friend with that Joan girl?",he asked as he leaned back against the wall.

Scatty smiled and drooped her head. "Yes. Yes I am. We've known each other since her first vision."

Andre gave her an inquisitive look. "Visions? What kind of visions?"

Scatty then held raised her face to look at the ceiling."Oh well, she doesn't tell me much about him. All I know is that they are visions of angels and saints that talks to her." Andre opened his mouth to say something, when the door opened and Norman stepped out.

Joan, Scatty and Laxart immediately stood at attention. "Joan of Arc and company, you may enter." He then stretched his arm towards the room and gestured.

Joan slowly entered the room, which became absolutely quiet at her appearance. The roar of laughter and merriment which have filled this lively crowd, have died at the sight of the peasant girl. Joan paused in the doorway for a moment, and allowed a small amount of her aura to escape. Silver lightly emitted around her head, giving it the appearance of a halo around her head. The gathered nobles were astonished and noted it among themselves, including Baudricourt, even though he didn't show it. He just sat there with his hard, rough face of a bulldog. Meanwhile, Jean de Metz and Bertrand Poulegny became curious and leaned forward in their chairs from excitement.

Joan was still wearing her red dress from Domremy, with a coif upon her head. Joan noticed the awed expressions and circulating chatter among the nobles. She grinned slightly. That was the reaction she was hoping to receive.

"Well come on",called Baudricourt from his table."We don't have all day." The grin faded and Joan resumed her grave and solemn bearing. She walked a steps forward, allowing Scatty and Laxart to step in.

The difference between the two was fine and void. Scatty, used to stuffy and formal environments, remained calm and tranquil as she eyed around the room. _What? Haven't they ever seen a redheaded girl, before?_ Laxart on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. He quivered in his boots and held on nervously to his hat. Every once in while, he would awkwardly bow or stumble and trip. The high and mighty nobles were highly amused for it, but had the decency to not to worry him with it.

When Joan finally reached Baudricourt and was standing before him, he asked,"Child, why are you here?" His voice was rough and rigid, but it did not deter Joan.

She looked into his dark gray eyes with her own blue ones and said simply,"Sir Robert de Baudricourt, I have come here today to ask of you an escort to see the Dauphin at Chinon. For it is by my Lord that I do this. He has given me a message to deliver to the Dauphin, and for his ears alone. My Lord have also told me that it is you who shall do it, therefore I know that I am not mistaken. And your laughter bothers me not",she added in reference to the fact that she have heard them laugh. She told him that without fear or doubt, but only boldness as if she saw him only as a tool of God, and nothing more.

_Whoa__! When have she learned to talk like that? Thought Scatty._

A gasp came from the company of nobles who were deeply mesmerized by her words. The two knights sat at the edge of their seats as they hung on to her every word.

"Who is your Lord?",asked Baudricourt not laughing now, but frowning in perplexity.

Joan's brows furrowed in annoyance as if she expected him to know already. _The God in Heaven, who else?! _"He is the Lord of Heaven, sire",answered Joan with her hands loosely clasped together. She then forced a smile upon her face and said,"He that is God, is also your Lord and Lord of this realm of France. It is His Holy will, that the Dauphin shall be its King, and that I am the one to place the crown upon his head." She stopped and saw the results of her speech. Boisterous conversations broke among the nobles about her words.

"Mon Dieu",exclaimed Jean de Metz in a awed voice."Her words...they are so beautiful. How can one not believe her?"

Baudricourt rubbed the stubble of his beard before asking her,"And when shall these wonders come to pass?"

Scatty became irritated of his constant and mocking questioning. _For the love of scotch! Stop asking all these questions and send her off to the Dauphin or whatever already! _Joan could sense Scatty's stress levels rising, and sent an auric message for her to hold out a few more minutes.

Joan was as frustrated as she was. She, still with her gaze fixed a little upwards, answered,"Before mid-lent shall I see the Dauphin, and then it's off to save Orleans and the English shall fly before the sword of the Lord. Afterwards, the Dauphin shall be crowned at Rheims and be anointed with the sacred oil of his ancestors." _Please, dear God, let this be the last one. _

Baudricourt dashed away her hopes by once again asking, "And who, pray tell, has told you this, my child?"

"My Voices, she answered softly.

"What voices?",asked Baudricourt with a little chuckle."So you are telling me, and everyone here-" He gestured with his arms the vast multitude of nobles gathered. "-That you have nothing else than voices to instruct you in such great matters?"

Joan nodded firmly. "Yes sire. I have seen the great Archangel Michael, his mighty sword drawn in his hand; and I know that he have drawn it for the deliverance of France." A strange shining came into her eyes, as her voice steadily rose higher and higher. "He was not alone, however. Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret also came to me. All of them told me the same message: That I, as humble as I am, have been chosen to by God to lead our Kingdom of France to glory and victory, in the name of the King of Heaven!"

Scatty lit up in admiration at this new assertive side to Joan...and so did the two knights.

_Preach, Joan, preach! You got this! _

Once she had then spoken, there was a great silence in the hall. It was so darn quiet, that you could hear a pin fall. Laxart was still shaking in his boots, and took out a handkerchief to wipe the cold nervous sweat off his face. All the nobles looked to Baudricourt, who sat with chin on hand, gazing at Joan as if he would read her very soul. Behind her innocent farm-girl smile, Joan was anxiously awaiting his reply. Then he did.

Instead of sending her on her way as she has hoped, Baudricourt instead burst out laughing straight on out!

"Ha ha ha ha! Did you hear that, fellas? She...a girl...is going to save France!" Upon his words, all the nobles there also began to laugh with him. All that is, except Jean de Metz and Bertrand Poulegny, who happened to have a bit of sense to realize that what she said is true and not meant to be laughed at. Joan felt a red blush crept up her neck and face at his scornful laughing. "Hahahaha! Talking to angels! Hahaha!"

Joan didn't feel embarrassed, she felt angry, irritated, mocked. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Scatty looking at her. "Joan, are you okay?" Then she became more violent."Because if you're not, then I can give these neanderthals a good whooping or two!"

Joan only shook her head sighed. "No, I'm fine. I mean, I really didn't expect this to be easy."

Then Laxart joined them, his hat on his head. "Jeanne, we should go now. Hurry." Then he grabbed her hand and led her out the room, with Scatty right behind them.

Upon seeing them leave, Baudricourt called after them,"You better take her back to her father, Laxart! Give her a good whippin' or two to set her straight! Hahahaha!"

* * *

In a local Vaucouleurs tavern...

After being laughed out of Baudricourt's castle and into the streets, Laxart took Joan and Scatty to a local tavern. It was shabby at best, but at least there was a roaring fire, much to Scatty's happiness.

"Here you go, a Scotch, wine, and water",said the server as she handed out their beverages.

"How's your best sheep mutton?",asked Scatty as she took her Scotch.

"It's sheepy and muttony. Gonna cost you 3 francs."

Scatty brushed her hair off her face. "In that case, I'll have three." Then she took out her money pouch and poured 9 francs.

The server counted and took them."Wait a while. Pleasure doing business with you."Then the server left.

Joan took a sip of her water, and Laxart his wine. An eerie silence was upon them, in contrast to all the noise and racket around them. Scatty gave out a sigh and broke the silence by saying,"Well, that sure was a waste of time."

Joan sat up straight and rested her chin on her hand."I just don't get it. What was so funny about anything I said? Can't they see that I'm telling the truth?"

Laxart slouched in his seat, mellowed by his wine. "Jeanne dear, these are not common peasant folk, they are hardheaded old soldiers. Nobody believe in miracles these days." He then took another gulp of his wine.

"One thing for sure, is that I have never been humiliated like that in all my life",said Joan softly.

"Laxart's right",said Scatty."On my way over here, I've seen entire villages and towns fall under English rule. But I think they are fools for passing off a nine-month old baby as a king of two countries." She scoffed. The server came back with the mutton and Scatty thanked her."Here's something for your troubles",said Scatty as she flipped a coin in the air. The server caught it with one hand and hastily left.

"What about Orleans? How are they doing there?",asked Joan urgently.

Scatty took a bite of her mutton."Orleans?" She swallowed."The English have been going at it for seven months. They built these huge stone forts around Orleans, with about 400-500 soldiers in each."

"Oh, it's worse than I thought!",groaned Laxart."Soon, they will storm Orleans, and then the whole rest of France!"

"Huh? They couldn't storm Orleans if they try, unless they want to drown trying",said Scatty.

"Is that so? How?",asked Laxart and Joan at the same time. Scathach grinned."The French commanders might fight a lot, but the only thing they did decided on was to blow up the bridge that connects the main English fort to Orleans."

"But if they cannot cross the river, than how are they going reach Orleans?",asked Joan.

"They're going to bombard Orleans into submission",answered Scatty with a mouth full of mutton."Or at least that's what I heard the English shout over to the French."

"Is that all you know? What about the French?",asked Joan inquisitively.

"Uh, I don't really know about what the French are doing. I didn't get that close to Orleans. But I do know that Joan, here is going to give them a run for their money, eh?",added Scatty proudly.

Joan smiled and replied,"I know that with God's help, I shall free Orleans."

"Well that's all fine and good, but without Baudricourt's escort, I'm afraid you're not going anywhere",pointed out Laxart."Jeanne, I think that it would be best for me to take you home."

Joan now had a determined look on her face. "No, uncle! Baudricourt might be a stubborn old dog, but I'll convince him. I know he will give me an escort if I just keep asking."

Laxart let out a deep sigh."Well even if you could, it might take weeks to win him over. Besides, I need to get home and take care of your aunt and the baby. So unless if you know somebody, I have no choice but to take you home."

Joan though for a moment, then her face suddenly lit up. "I know! My mother has a friend, who's husband is a lawyer and lives in this town."

Laxart chuckled as he prepared to get up from the table. "Oh Jeanne, I have no idea how things are..." Then Joan grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the tavern towards the door.

"Come on! We don't have much time. Orleans is waiting!"

The keeper of the tavern came out and blocked the door."Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down here lady. You still have to pay."

Joan smiled sweetly and said,"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Our friend Scatty, here was just about to pay you. Isn't that right, Scatty?"

"Say what now?",exclaimed Scatty. The keeper held out his hand, waiting for his money. Scatty sighed deeply as she pulled out her pouch. She poured out ten coins from it.

"Alright, you all have a good day, now!",said the keeper as he left.

"You, too!",called Joan as she continued to pull Laxart by the wrist. Scatty gulped down one last pint of Scotch before hurrying out after them.

* * *

After dragging Laxart and Scatty halfway across the town, and some knocking on doors, Joan and the rest of them finally reached the house of Henri le Royer, a lawyer living here. "Ok guys, this is it",said Joan as she cautiously knocked on the door.

"Coming!",called a voice from within. After a moment, the door opened and a lady stepped out.

"Jeanne? Is that you? What are you doing here at this time?"

"Good to see you too, Madame Royer! I was here earlier to asked Baudricourt for an escort to see the Dauphin, but he refused. Laxart has to go and look after his wife-" Laxart waved to Madame Royer who waved back. "-And I have nowhere to stay, so can Scatty and I stay with you for a few weeks?"

There was a hopeful expression on Joan's face. Madame Royer looked at Joan, then Laxart, then Scatty, the back to Joan again. Finally she smiled and said,"That will be just fine,dear. Now, you and your friend get on in and out of the cold now."

Joan let out a sigh of relief and hugged Madame Royer. "Oh, thank you, Madame! You have no idea how grateful I am." Madame Royer gave her a kiss on the cheek, before sending Joan and Scatty inside.

Then she turned back to Laxart, who was now sitting at the front of his cart. "Take care of Jeanne, now. Keep her out of trouble",winked Laxart.

There was an elegant smile on the Frenchwoman's lips."You know I will, Laxart." Laxart doffed his cap to her and snapped the reins. "Yaaahh!" The oxen let out a loud moan before finally moving.

"You have a good night, now! Say hello to Henri for me!",called Laxart as he departed.

"I will! Say hello to your wife for me, from Sandra!"

After saying goodbye, Madame Royer went back inside to find Joan and Scatty asleep by the fire. She smiled warmly at the sight and picked up a blanket. "There. Sweet dreams, girls",whispered Madame Royer softly as she spread the blanket over both of them. Then she retired into the kitchen to fix up dinner.

**So yeah, that was my version of Joan and Baudricourt's first meeting. The dialogue I got from bits of sources I found on the internet. I have a lot of trustworthy Joan of Arc websites on favorite. What did you expect? That after the first time he's just gonna believe her and give her a horse and send her off to see the King or something? **

**I know that Baudricourt is a jerk-ass for laughing at Joan, but he's old and stubborn. He doesn't cut as a guy who believe in talking to angels and all that magic mumbo jumbo. BTW If you haven't noticed, Jean de Metz and Bertrand Poulegny are the only ones who took Joan seriously. And tell me if you hate that scene when Scatty was threatening the rude soldiers. I highly doubt you would. BTW, France really owes Laxart a favor. Without him, Joan would've never gotten to Vaucouleurs.**

**So...don't just sit there like a lump! Review, suckers! Sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just really craving reviews. :P**


	7. Chapter 6

**So...hey. OK just a little something, some things might be made up in here to suite the fantasy aspect of this fanfic. Also, because not all the specifics about Joan's life are known. It's like a filling-in-the-cracks sort of thing. So yeah, if you see something that's not necessarily historically correct, remember that it's part fantasy.**

So Madame Royer and her husband was kind enough to let Joan and Scatty stay at their house as they slowly grind the great boulder that is Robert de Baudricourt down. Weeks passed by without any major progress. Everytime that Joan have managed to sneak into his castle, or corner him somewhere in the streets and delivered her message to him, the answer was always the same:"Go away!", "By Satan's crook, leave me alone!", or "Don't make me call the guards!" At first, Baudricourt was highly amused by it, but then it quickly turned annoying.

During those agonizing weeks in Vaucouleurs, Joan would help out Madame Royer with the chores, housekeeping, and cooking and what not. They also went to church together daily, for no matter where Joan was, she would never stop going to church. While in church, she would pray constantly to God and Jesus that Baudricourt would change his mind and give an escort to Chinon.

Scatty, however, preferred to mingle with the host of soldiers that Baudricourt kept at his castle. She would show off her prowess by dueling with them, and certainly always beating them. Her ferocity and agility soon became legendary among them. Scatty dazzled them with her knowledge of various types of weapons and combat forms. Baudricourt would watch them solemnly from his window and observe.

Even though Joan was unable to convince Baudricourt of her mission, it doesn't mean that rest of the town had to ignore her. While staying in Vaucouleurs, Joan have stirred up quite a commotion among the townspeople. Soon, the prophecy of the Maiden that would save France was on everyone's lips. There was hope once again that France could still be saved. Flocks of people would gather around the Royers' house in hopes of getting a chance to speak with the Maid, as they called her. Joan was more than glad to speak to them about her mission. The townspeople believed in her mission and began spreading word about across the county. Baudricourt was aware of Joan's growing popularity and began to reconsider.

Scatty was surprised at how the tiniest of speculations could trigger so much hope in a people. Soon, the daily meetings and gatherings around the Royer's home became a routine for Joan. Everyone from shopkeepers, to lawyers, to tailors came just to see Joan and hear her speak. One bystander in particular, proved to have a special interest in her and her mission.

* * *

Vaucouleurs, February 1429

Jean de Metz, a twenty-two year old knight in the service of Robert de Baudricourt, was walking through the streets of Vaucouleurs. He is a friendly and adventurous young man, who will jump at any opportunity for excitement. Right now, he is curious to learn more about a certain Joan of Arc, who have somehow managed to convince everyone of her divine mission from God, as she claims. He was there when she first came to Baudricourt's presence and have been moved by her words. She was the only person that he have heard to not talk about outright surrender to the English, who are currently pounding away at Orleans. The outcome is clear:If Orleans fell, then the rest of France is doomed. Joan claimed that God have spoken to her through his angels and saints, and told her that she is the chosen one who must deliver France from its sufferings.

Today his curiosity have gotten the better of him, and he was determined to search her out. It was not that hard to find Joan, however. He was walking down a lazy street, when he came upon this house with a crowd of people around it. "Excuse me, sir, but who does this house belongs to and why the crowd around it?", asked Jean to a man nearby.

"Why, this is the house of Le Royer, sir!",answered the man."We are all here to see and talk with Joan the Maid! She says that she is sent by God to save us and crown the Dauphin. I don't know about the others, but I believe her!" Jean grinned at the man's seemingly unwavering faith in Joan's claims. He graciously thanked the man for his help, and started to make his way through the crowd towards Joan. "I believe in her! God had sent her down to save us!",called the man after him.

Most in the crowd recognized him as knight of Baudricourts's and made way for him. Jean easily went forward to Joan, who was sitting on the front steps of the house. Joan was talking to someone who hastily retreated when they saw Jean approaching. Then Joan looked up to see who it was. Jean in his gray doublet and long hose, tried to give his face a look of confidence as those deep, blue eyes met his way. He came up to her and spoke suavely as one talks to children. "What are you doing here, my little maid? Is it not said that the Dauphin shall flee and we all become English?" There was a smug grin on his face as he said it. He could see the fire in her eyes when she looked up to answer him.

"I have come here to ask Robert de Baudricourt to send me to the Dauphin",she sweetly answered."He has refused me, but will eventually send me, for it is my Lord's will that I be sent."

Jean could feel his grin fall from his face and he grew grave. He felt as if her intense gaze was piercing into his soul. "Who is your lord?",he asked in awe.

"He is God",she said blissfully. Jean staggered back a little, for her eyes seemed to turn into silver disks for a moment. He didn't know if it was holy power, or what. "He has willed that I shall save France and crown the Dauphin at Rheims",she continued."Have I had a hundred godmothers and godfathers, and if I had been a king's daughter, still I would have gone, for nobody else but me can save France."

Jean just stood their mouth gaping, trying to evaluate her words. Then, as if of some mysterious impulse, as of some kind of inspiration, he fell to one knee and took hold of her hand. "I, Jean de Metz, do hereby solemnly swear, that by the help of God, I shall personally take you to the Dauphin at Chinon."

Realizing what he had just said, but strangely proud of it, Jean looked up to see how Joan would react. Joan was grateful of his promise to help her, for she held on to his hand and smiled. "Please, good sir, I think it would be better if you do not bow to me", and with that she bid him to rise. Having somebody bow to her was an eerie weird feeling. Joan invited him into the house, where they can discuss details.

* * *

Inside the Royer's House...

Scathach the shadow was in the middle of her afternoon meditating session, when the door opened and Joan stepped in with Jean de Metz. Sitting on the livingroom floor and still in her position, Scatty opened one of her eyes. "Jean, this Scatty. Scatty, meet Jean",said Joan.

Jean cautiously approached her and said,"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Scatty. I'm Jean de Metz, knight." Scatty only gave him a faint smile and said rigidly,"Do me favor and keep it down, will you?" Jean staggered back, not expecting for things to be this way.

Joan sat down at a table and motioned Jean to do the same."Sorry about Scatty",apologized Joan."She doesn't like to be disturbed in the afternoon, especially by strangers." Jean nodded and reassured her that it was alright. Meanwhile, Scatty had one eye open, spying on them and overhearing their conversation.

"So,good maid, who are your parents and do you have any brothers or sisters?",asked Jean.

Joan answered without any hesitation. "Well, I was born in Doremry, and my parents are Jacques d' Arc, and Isabelle Romee. I do have three older brothers named Jacques, Pierre, and John. I also have a little sister, Catherine." Then her countenance turned sober and she was sad. Saying their names just made her remember how much she missed them. "It just breaks my heart that I have to leave them, but it is God's command so I must."

Seeing that tears are rising in her eyes, Jean decided to change the subject."How are you planning to accomplish what you say? For it sounds extremely difficult."

Joan shifted in her seat and there was a cool look on her face when she said,"I know I shall accomplish, for my Voices said I would." Then a quick flash of determination shone in her gray eyes. "With God by my side, there is nothing that I am afraid of!"

Scathach sighed resolutely. _Joan. Still her faithful, God-fearing self. I'll have to take her to a shadowrealm someday. Maybe then would she think differently of heaven._

"Right, your voices",said Jean with the merest hint of a grin on his face. He cleared his throat and asked softly,"Um...what exactly are your voices?"

Joan answered simply, "My Voices are those of the Archangel Michael, Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret. They are my heavenly council and will guide me along my mission."

The name of the Archangel Michael brought back distant memories to Scatty's mind. Being over 10,000 years old, she was there when he vanquished Lucifer from the shadowrealm of Heaven. To this day, the Archangel is on the side of the humanis, along with Gabriel and Raphael. After his crushing defeat, Lucifer undergo a major transformation. Horns sprouted from his head, his flesh became rough red scales and and his legs formed into hideous hooves, and his teeth sharpened into terrifying fangs. He despised the Archangel for his defending of the humanis and went to join the Dark Elders. For centuries, Michael had defended the humani and lead them on a virtuous path, while Lucifer tempted mankind to undermine itself.

Jean appeared to be quite smitten with Joan. However, his eyes squinted as he critically scanned her old dress. He though to himself, _Is she going to wear that peasant dress while riding to Chinon? I mean practically, it would be hard to ride a horse with a dress, the roads are muddy, and there will be icy rivers to cross!_

Seeing the question that was about to form on his lips, Joan said, "I would willingly take the garb of a man." She tried to hide a red flush in her face when she asked,"Unfortunately, I do not have the proper clothing. Could you lend me some?"

Shocked for a moment, Jean soon recovered his senses and scanned her for size."Well...I think I have some old clothing that you could wear. I'll bring them to you tomorrow."

Joan smiled her gratitude and he returned it. She then led him to the door and they bid goodbye. Once Jean was gone, Scathach felt that it was safe enough to get up. "So what's the deal with him?",asked Scatty as crossed her arms across her chest.

Joan sat by the table and rested her chin on her hand."I don't know much, but he is close to Baudricourt and is willing to help us get to Chinon."

Scatty went to sit down across from her, straddling the seat. "So are you really letting him on the plan?" Asked Scatty, biting her lip to reveal pointed teeth. "And are you really going to ditch your dress for men's clothes?"

Joan nodded slightly."Yes, of course. He is our first serious supporter, and he seems nice." Joan sighed and laughed softly."The men's clothes? You wear men''s clothes all the time. Besides,I'm going to be a soldier and there will be many battles up ahead. So I can't have a dress slowing me down. It's just practical."

Scatty grinned broadly."What about your hair? Are you going to chop off those pretty long locks of yours?"

Joan ran her fingers through the tangles of her auburn hair."People always said that it was my best features..."

"Next to your eyes",chimed Scatty."They're so big and emphasizing. So blue and rich."

Joan blinked rapidly."Anyways, I would consider cutting my hair...but not now. Perhaps you could cut it."

Scatty snorted and wrinkled her nose. "Gladly"

Then the door opened and Madame Royer stepped in. She was carrying a basket of groceries. "For heaven's sake, Jeanne! It's quite a racket you managed to stir up."

Joan went and helped Madame Royer with her basket. "I guess they truly believe in me then",said Joan with a broad smile, revealing white teeth.

Scatty slumped in her seat for a minute."Oh, what the heck." Then she got up and grabbed a curved knife from her leather boot."Will this be appropriate?"

"That's...fine, dear",said Madame Royer shakily.

"Well, dear, I surely for certain believe you."Then Madame Royer sighed lightly. "Come now, would you help me pluck the goose feathers?"

By then, Joan was already heading for the kitchen."Of course, Madame." Then she turned to look at Scathach."Scatty, would you like to help?"

Scatty got up and pooped her knuckles."What the heck, sure." She then pulled out a large curved knife from her leather boot."Will his be appropriate for plucking?"

Madame Royer gaped at the sight of the large knife in her hand. Joan cautiously lowered down Scatty's arm."Um...Scatty, were just plucking, not skinning and butchering."

"Oh...",Scatty felt her face flush and immediately put the knife away.

* * *

That night, Joan had a disturbing dream. She dreamed of wagons. A great tower of wagons, all piled up on top of each other. An evil tower, as it seems. There were long, sharpened wooden stakes sticking out from all sides, like porcupine needles. In the dream, she saw French soldiers in long white shirts, and large white hats. Their faces were absolutely blank. Then she saw them charge blindly towards the tower, hurling themselves onto the stakes. It was all strangely organized, like a dance. A group of maybe ten or more soldiers would gather in a circle around the tower, then the silver trumpets would sound and they would run and throw themselves at the stakes. The long wooden poles thrust out, red and wet, from their backs, staining their white clothing with the crimson liquid. It was a horrifying display of mass suicide. Once the men were dead, other soldiers came and lifted the bodies off the stakes to carry them away. Then a general, also in a white shirt and hat, gave the order and another set of blank-faced soldiers circled up, and waited for the sound of the trumpets. Just as the last group of soldiers was about to hit the stakes...all went black. Then slowly, the faint faces of her Voices started to form. The Archangel Michael appeared first, his round and angelic features radiating brilliantly. Then Saint Catherine after him, and Saint Margaret after her.

_Daughter of God, go! Go bravely on to Orleans! Have faith in the Lord. Go!_

They sounded urgent. Then they just vanished without a trace. Only the merest wisp of their faces remained in the air. Joan suddenly found herself bolting wide awake in a cold sweat. She immediately knew what the dream meant. Joan searched frantically around the dimly lit room, until her eyes fell upon Scathach, sitting in a far corner of a room. Her green eyes protruded out of the shadows that loomed over the corner. "Trouble sleeping, Joan?",asked Scatty concerned.

Joan nodded."My Voices...they were very urgent." Joan's face then took on a serious look. "We need to get to Orleans. Fast."

* * *

Then next morning, Baudricourt was in his private chambers, eating a roasted turkey. At that point there, was no sound, no disturbances, all was quiet, except for the sound of the wind howling against the closed window. Suddenly, the blade of a sword penetrated through the wooden door. Baudricourt jumped to his feet, ripping a way the bib that was tucked inside his collar. He reached for his sword and held it in position in front of his body. _Come and get me, bastard._

Another hit struck the door, loosening it's hinges. There was a slight silver glow animating from the door. It became stronger, and stronger, and stronger, until the door blew open, showering Baudricourt with pieces and bits of splintered wood. He ducked, and shielded himself with his forearm. His eyes were closed until he opened them.

Joan stepped through the door, her silver aura glowing all about her. Her red dress flowed in an elegant way with her movement. In her hands, was a stainless steel longsword. Etched on the blade was five crosses, inlaid with brilliant sapphire. The same silver sparks pulsed and crackled along the blade of the sword. Joan pointed resolutely at him and said zealously,"Robert de Baudricourt! In God's name, you are way too slow about sending me to Chinon!"

Baudricourt took a moment to recover from her unannounced entry into his chamber. He struggled to his feet before saying,"What the hell, girl! How dare you break into my room with a goddamn sword in your hands!" His nostrils flared and put his hand to his nose."And somehow managed to stink up the place with lavender!"

Joan was extremely offended of his rude use of language. "How did you get you get in here anyways?",asked Baudricourt incredulously."I though I had all my guards on duty."

There was a loud thud and a crash from outside the room. Then a group of panicking soldiers and knights streamed by the room, screaming. Then Scatty stepped in, her jet and black armor glinting from the light through the window, revealing orange highlights in her hair. Her twin short swords were in her hands. "You should really get better security",said Scatty smirking.

Baudricourt slowly shook his head and buried his face in one hand. Then he returned to the current moment. "So tell me! Why have you come here?"

Joan took a step forward, her sword held tightly in her hands. "First of all, sir, this sword is sacred and you have sinned by blaspheming against it!" She then brandished the blade, revealing the five crosses.

An ugly smile came upon Baudricourt's chiseled face, creating deep dimples. "Ah...so now you're saying God have given you a sword?" He laughed. "How can I be sure that you didn't just steal it from a knight or something?"

Joan frowned and allowed her aura to run free. "Because, the Archangel Michael have himself, descended down from Heaven to present it to me. It is God's will that I use it to vanquish the English. Only I can wield this blade",she added significantly.

Baudricourt grinned, revealing misshapen teeth. "Well girl, we'll see about that..." He clapped his hands together sharply. " Metz! Bertrand! Get in here, now!"

Immediately, Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulegny came into the room, fully armed in full plate armor and chainmail, except for their heads. "Yes, Baudricourt, sir. You are in need of our service?",they both saluted while bowing slightly.

Baudricourt gestured over to Joan and said roughly, "Come over here, girl. If that sword is really all you say it to be..." Joan stepped forward, with Scatty a few paces behind. Baudricourt then placed his hand heavily on Jean and Bertrand's shoulders. "Then allow two of my best knights to try and wield it."

_What is this? The tale of King Arthur or something?_ Scatty leaped forward, green eyes flashing. "Listen Baudricourt, and listen good! Joan here is on a mission from Heaven and you're only delaying it!"

Baudricourt turned red and ignored Scathach. "Metz, go and wield the sword",ordered Baudricourt indifferently. Metz nodded and obeyed.

He held out his hand and smiled. "Don't worry, Joan. I believe you",he whispered reassuringly. Joan smiled lightly back and reluctantly handed him the sword. Joan was right, though. As soon as Jean had the hilt in his hands, the blade sank like a stone, him with it, to the ground.

Baudricourt assessed the situation silently, and then signaled for Bertrand to assist Jean with the sword. Even with Bertrand's help, however, it was difficult for Jean hold on to the sword by himself. Sweat formed on their brows and their muscles ached from their tremendous effort to hold it.

Joan grinned at Baudricourt and raised a pencil-thin eyebrow."Now are you convinced?" Baudricourt stood their stroking his beard for a while,before taking in a shuddering deep breathe.

He placed his sword back into his sheath and folded his arms across his chest."Alright, what is it this time?"

Joan allowed her self a soft sigh before saying,"May I please have my sword back first?"

Baudricourt shook his head."No. Talk first, then sword. It's just...safer that way."

"Very well." Joan closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, the pupils twinkling. She straightened and a majestic air formed around her. "As before, sir, I have told you that God commands you to send me to the Dauphin! And because of your idleness, the Dauphin's troops have lost yet another battle near Orleans!" Her voice was sharp and clear, like those of a prophet.

Baudricourt was stunned for a good minute before he was able to answer her."Why child, how do you know?! For it would take at least ten days for that kind of news to reach here!"

"My voices have told me. Unless you send me soon and give me an escort, things will get worse for France." She turned that statement into a promise.

An overwhelming silent fell over the room. Only the howling of the winter wind howled from outside, and the groans and moans of Jean and Bertrand as they struggled to have a grip on the surprisingly heavy, yet normal looking longsword.

Meanwhile, Baudricourt was busy pacing and muttering to himself, trying to evaluate the situation. He needed to be very careful, because never in his life, have he came across such a problem as this. If he sends her, then he'll risk making a fool of himself if she turns out to be a fraud. But on the other hand, if he don't then, the fate of France as a nation will be doomed. So which one is it? Save his reputation, or his country?

Then Scatty broke the silence by shouting,"Great love of Scotch, make up your mind already!"

"Alright, alright!",exclaimed Baudricourt, annoyed. He then turned to Joan and said,"So this is what I'll do. If the news of this so-called battle of yours arrive within ten days, then I'll send you to the Dauphin..."

"I have no doubt that it will",interrupted Joan.

"Let me finish. But if it doesn't, then you'll have to leave Vaucouleurs, and never return!",he finished triumphantly.

Joan only smiled sweetly and said,"Thank you, sir. In ten days, you shall fetch the news and send me on to see the Dauphin." She then turned swiftly, retrieved her sword effortlessly with a graceful motion of her hand, and hurried out of the chamber. Scatty hissed before following Joan.

"Bertrand, go and keep an eye on them", ordered Baudricourt as he went back to his seat. Bertrand saluted and hurried out the door. Baudricourt dropped back down to his seat, tucked in his bib, and and continued eating his meal as if nothing had ever happened! He poured himself a cup of wine and chugged it all do**wn**.

Jean slowly strolled among the scattered wooden pieces of the broken door. He made his way towards Baudricourt and said, "Sir, I believe in her. Her words are true!God has sent her to save France and crown the Dauphin because He wills it, and who are we to stop her!" His tone became more urgent. "I am begging you. Please send her to the Dauphin or else, we shall lose what little we have left!"

At his words, Baudricourt became annoyed and burst out in anger, "Fine then! If God wills it, then so be it! Just stop pestering me!" His temper cooled as he took a big gulp of wine. "I am not sure if I should send her yet, but I shall consider your request. You may go now", he added with a wave of his hand.

Jean nodded obediently. Yes sir, enjoy your meal." As he headed toward the vacant space in the wall where the door used to be, he muttered,"How I wish you would make up your mind soon."

"Wait!",called Baudricourt from his table. Jean stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Would you mind getting somebody to come and clean up this mess?"

"Yes, right away, sir", then he left.

**OK, so the dream that Joan had was really about the Battle of the Herrings. Count Dunois, bastard son of the Duke of Orleans who is held captive by the English in England, is at this time leading the military operations at Orleans. In addition to French soldiers, there were also a company of Scottish soldiers and commanders stationed at Orleans. The Scots teamed up with the French during the war. On learning that a small company of English soldiers were escorting a wagon train full of herring, yep herring,to the English at Orleans , Count Dunois organized for a combined force of Scottish and French soldiers to ambush them. However, the Scottish commanders couldn't hold their horses and charged at the English too early. The English were smart enough to arrange the wagons into a square around them. They planted sharpened wooden stakes in front of the wagons. So the brave but arrogant Scots charged headlong into their deaths towards the stakes, which rendered their cavalry useless. They also got cut down in large numbers by the arrows launched from the English inside the wagons. So at the end, what was supposed to be a simple hit-and-run operation, have turned into a massacre. **

**Apparently, the humiliating loss really shook up the French leaders and they followed a policy of caution towards the English ever since. This policy, however will be forgotten once Joan gets in command. **

**Now, a moment of silence for all the brave Scots who risked their lives fighting and is now at rest.**

**BTW Mention this in your review if you did it. Oh, and also don't forget to review! At least three sentences, please. :)**


	8. Chapter 7

**You wanted more so here you go, Chapter 8! Since I don't have anything else to say...on with the story! Reviews are MANDATORY! No pressure. :)**

That afternoon, after the uninvited break in of Joan and Scathach, Jean de Metz kept his promise. In the chill of February, he is delivering men's clothes to the Royer's house. In his hands are a set of faded blue doublet, dark hose, and spurs. He approached the sturdy stone house, and knocked rapidly on the wooden door. *Knock knock knock*

_Who is it? _Called Joan's voice from inside.

"It'm me, Jean de Metz!",replied Jean. "I have your clothes, Joan."

No answer. Then the door opened, and Jean suddenly found himself looking into glass green eyes, and even more unnatural red hair. The first time he have the Shadow, which was yesterday, the light in the house was minimal, but out here in the sunlight, her features were more wondrous."What are you staring at?",asked Scatty, her head tilted incredulously.

"Um, nothing...it's just that you're hair is so",he stuttered, eyes lowered to look at the ground.

"Red? Yeah, I know",said Scatty grinning. Jean then noticed that she was holding a pair of iron scissors.

"What are you doing with those scissors?",asked Jean cautiously.

Scatty gripped the cutting part with her other hand."Oh...just giving a haircut to Joan."

Jean was shocked, yet amused."What? Joan is cutting her hair? How could she?",asked Jean all in one breath.

Scatty laughed."Yeah, she's taking this whole God-sent-me thing really seriously." Then reached for his head, and ran her fingers lightly through the curls of Jean's close-cropped brown hair. "Hmm..."

"Uh...are you going to take the clothes or not?",asked Jean.

Scatty stared at the bundles of clothes in his arms before taking it. "Are these her size?"

"Yes, they are the smallest I could find",he said smiling lightly. He then noticed the longsword laid on the table behind Scatty. "So Joan trained is sword fighting?"

Scatty's head dropped slightly. Her green eyes lit up. "Yes. Yes she is. Joan is one of the most gifted warrior I've ever known."

"Ah, I see. Say, would the two of you like to come train with me and my friend, Bertrand?"

Scatty's lip pulled back to reveal her vampire fangs. "We certainly will."

"Great, then maybe-" Then the door closed, and he found his arms empty.

* * *

Scatty sat on a chair, legs crossed , chin resting on hand. A broom was set against the wall to the right, next to a pile of auburn hair. On the table to her left, was a pair of used iron scissors and a simple hand-mirror. The jingle and clink of her necklace as she absentmindedly played with it, was clearly audible in the quiet and stillness of the Royer's house. Nobody was home, except Scathach and Joan. Madame Royer was at a friend's house, and Monsieur Royer was at his office in town.

Scatty was waiting in front of Joan's room. Moments ago, Scatty have successfully cut and trimmed those long, dark locks, to just above the ears. Believe it or not, it was not the first time that Scatty have seen women go against the traditions of feminism by cutting their hair short...or wearing men's clothes. The Amazons were one example. Scatty have fought with their kind for as long as she could remember. There were also the fierce Disirs, or Valkyries. Both of these clans of warrior women doesn't match man's vision of a weak, controllable, and ignorant of war woman. In fact, the Amazons and Disirs would be more than a match for any man. But not for the Shadow. They have chased her down through the centuries, but haven't got her...yet.

"Are you done dressing, Joan?",called Scatty. Her arms were now crossed over her chest. The open window down the hall let in the light, and showered her in its sunbeams, turning her pale skin golden. She wore the typical garb of a woolen doublet and hose, and high leather boots. Sheathed twin swords hung from her belt, and her nunchakus fell by her side.

"Almost! So many laces...to tie", replied Joan. The shuffle of clothing could be heard. Then there was silence. Footsteps could be heard approaching the door, and it opened. Joan appeared, but looked much different than before. Her once-long hair was closed-cropped just above the ears. It no longer hung down to her back, but framed her small round face perfectly.

Instead of a dress, she wore a man's close-fitting doublet of a light blue color. Her dark hose showed off her slender, yet muscular legs. On her feet, were black high, leather boots with spur at each heel. Give her a cap and sword, and she could easily pass for a young page boy. Big blue eyes dominated that boyish face, as the sunlight from the window illuminated her flawless, tanned skin from years of farm work.

There was an elegant smile on the young girl's lips at the look on her friend's face. "So, what do you think? Does it look good on me?"

Scatty stood up slowly, keeping her eyes on Joan. There was a gaping smile on her face as she beheld the slender, boyish figure in front of her. Finally she said, "I...I don't know what to say except-" She then solemnly placed both her hands on Joan's shoulders. "Joan of Arc, you are officially the greatest tomboy, I have ever met."

Joan laughed and removed Scatty's hands. "Scatty! I'm not trying to be a man, but this is just more practical for my mission."

"Well, you have also struck me as a highly practical person",said Scatty grinning. "So how does it feel?"

Joan straightened out the doublet and said,"It feels tight. I have never felt this restricted before."

"Well pretty soon, you'll be commanding an army...an army of living, breathing, moving men",said Scatty as her eyes widened. "You need to be like one of the guys."

Joan laughed again."I'm not going to be one of the guys, but I will fight like them. I'll wear this as long as it protects me from molestation." Joan sighed.

It was not Scatty's turn to laugh. The thought of one young virgin among an army of oogly-eyed and lusty soldiers was too canon. Then she she grabbed her wrist and said,"Come". She then hastily lead Joan over to a chair and sat her down in it. "Here, take a look", as she handed Joan the mirror.

Joan raised the mirror in front of her to admire the fine work Scatty have done."Wow",she whispered in awe. "It's so...short, so light. I feel like a weight have been lifted from my head!" Joan slowly ran her hand over her hair, flattening it.

"They'll never know the difference",smirked Scatty. "Could you imagine what your parents would say?"

Joan smiled sadly."You mean what they would yell",she corrected. "However, my Voices told me that they will soon forgive me, and that I will have their blessings.

* * *

February 15, 1429

"So what was it like? Talking to the Maid?",asked Bertrand de Poulegny to his friend Jean de Metz, as they walked on the snow covered trail to Baudricourt's castle.

Jean sighed deeply."It was like, as if everything she said was true without needing any sort of proof. That her words were God's words. And don't even get me started on those deep blue eyes, which can penetrate any human facade."

Bertrand laughed heartily and slapped Jean on the back."Oh, Jean, my dear friend, no...my brother. Please don't tell me that you fell in love with her." Then he dodged a punch from his friend."Yeesh, fiesty aren't we."

Jean could feel his face flush a little."Don't be silly",said Jean, arms resolutely crossed over his chest."I've only talked to her once. How could I possibly have fallen in love with her?"

"Well ever since that little meeting of yours with her",began the hazel colored hair knight."I have noticed that you were going to church a lot more often. Seems to me like the tough, hotheaded Jean de Metz have grown soft",he added with a broad grin.

Jean scowled at him, but soon gave in to the mirth and nudged his friend's arm, who returned the favor. They were just entering through the gate to the courtyard, when a group of soldiers and commoners rushed passed them, causing Jean to fall into Bertrand's arms. "What on Earth is going on here?",wondered Jean out loud as he regained his composure.

"There's the answer",exclaimed Bertrand, pointing urgently to a large crowd of soldiers and commoners, who were obviously gathered to watch something. "Come, Jean, let us investigate."

So the two men made their way elbowing and shoving through the crowd, until they could see the front. They couldn't believe there eyes! "By God, what are they doing?",exclaimed Bertrand.

In the middle of that live circle of spectators, Joan of Arc and Scathach stood apart on opposite sides. They were both in fencing positions, torsos straight and stiff, their arms outstretched with a slight bend of the elbow. They stood with their legs apart and knees slightly bent. Both of them were wearing protective arming doublets, padded hose, thick leather boots and gloves, and were ready for the bout. Being left handed, Joan held her sword in front of her, point facing upwards, the light reflecting off the sapphire crosses, with her left hand next to the hilt while her right hand covered the sword's pommel. It was almost as tall as she was, but yet she wielded it with great strength. Opposite of her, Scatty held her sword the same way, but right handed style. Her long red hair was neatly tied back in a tight ponytail.

Joan turned her head a little to the left, and saw Jean waving to her. She waved back before quickly tightening her grip on her sword. Scatty followed her gaze and back. "Great Christ, that's Joan!",exclaimed Jean excitedly.

Bertrand who was standing beside him, covered his ears at his friend's loud outburst."Well, you don't have to make me deaf about it", he muttered."Besides isn't she missing a good part of her hair and her dress?"

Jean shook his head."No, that really is her! I gave her some clothes and her friend cut her hair."

Bertrand gave his friend a critical look before turning back to the two women. "Well this should be interesting. Two girls fighting a duel is a rare case in the western parts of Europe",he added lightly.

Jean looked at him with question."And, pray tell, how do you know that?"

His friend smiled dryly."Oh, I blew all my inheritance on a trip to Italy and Rome. It's very cultured there and many of the older generations tried painstakingly to preserve the old time traditions. I saw a couple of ancient paintings, some depicted what they called..." Bertrand paused, trying to remember. "Ah, yes! Gladiator fights, was what they called them."

Jean raised an eyebrow."What in hell are gladiator fights?"

"Basically, its just a barbarous act where two extremely brave, or stupid people fight in a sandy arena to the death, just for the entertainment of the masses. Women also participated."

"Why?",wondered Jean as he tried to evaluate Bertrand's words."Why would they their lives like that?"

Bertrand, being older and in effect wiser, answered simply."For the same reasons that knights and kings go to war." Taking his friend's blank expression as a sign to go on he continued."Most of them wanted money and fame..."

But as he spoke, the shout of "en garde" rang out, and the bout began. There was a hush among the crowd as they watched to two unlikely opponents held their blades up until the hilt was before their eyes. Then they slowly lowered them in a sweeping motion going down and out to their sides, Joan to her left and Scatty to her right. So in this official way, they saluted each other.

The stillness of the air was almost unbearable. Scatty's glass green eyes sparkled with specks of yellow and orange. Joan's eyes flashed brightly along with a smile, revealing perfect white teeth. Both of them waited to see what the other would do, as the crowd held its breath in anticipation. Jean bit his lower lip, while Bertrand locked his fingers in front of him.

Then without warning, both warriors launched themselves in full speed, their blades meeting in the middle with a resounding clash of steel. They pushed each other back, still holding on to their swords. Swiftly, Scatty lunged forward, the point of her blade aimed at Joan's heart. But Joan easily parried her attack by stepping aside as she hit her blade with her own.

Joan's next move was to push her opponent relentlessly back, as she beat down hard upon Scatty's blade. Scathach struggled to defend herself against the ferocious onslaught, and countered by targeting Joan's weaker right side as she whirled around on one foot. Ducking an overhead blow, Scatty struck at Joan's legs. Joan immediately jumped back and was barely able to avoid Scatty's next strike at her head.

Jean and Bertrand was astonished at the strength and agility that both combatants displayed. The crowd looked on in silent excitement, worried about hindering the combatants' focus in this 'fight of the ages'.

Scatty was aroused and struck full force upon Joan, beating her back with quick blows. Joan was on her knees, and with a burst of sudden strength, blocked Scathach's blade in midair just above her head, though she knew that Scatty would never hurt her. Then she pushed Scathach back, knocking the blade out of her hands. Joan stood up and catching Scatty off guard, made it to her advantage by pressing against her hard.

Scatty managed to unsheathe her twin short swords and retaliated by parrying and striking back. Every one of their movements was quick and graceful as their blades clashed in a collision of sparks. It seems that both fighters were evenly matched, returning the same amount given by the other. Then after fifteen minutes, Joan decided to end this in a flurry of rapid and agile strikes.

When the dust cleared, Scatty laid flat on her back, hands raised in surrender, yes that's right, the great Scathach have surrendered to Joan of Arc. There was an broad smile on the French girl's lips as she held the point of her blade aimed at her friend's neck. "What did I tell you?",she said happily."I am pretty good at this."

Scatty grinned."Well, well, I always knew someday that the student will surpass the master." So Joan have won...or have she? Turns out, the Warrior Maid still had a few tricks up her sleep. As soon as Joan took away her sword to raise it triumphantly above her head to the cheering, applauding, and whistling of the crowd, Scatty made her move. Still sprawled on the ground, she wrapped her foot around Joan's leg and knocked her to the ground.

Scatty laughed delightedly as her friend toppled upon her, ignoring the fact that Joan's elbow fell on her stomach. "Not fair! Not fair, Scatty!",exclaimed Joan as she struggled to raise her head.

"Well, what do you expect from me?",said Scatty still laughing."Not everyone will fight fair, you just have to deal with it."

Both warriors managed to lift their upper bodies and looked at each other. Eventually, they burst into laughter, Joan's cheeks red in color.

"Hello down there",said a mocking voice.

"Jean!", exclaimed both Scatty and Jean as they opened their eyes to see Jean and Bertrand standing over them. The two knights were looking down upon them, smiling widely."And some other guy..."

Jean and Bertrand offered their hands, and Joan and Scatty took it gratefully.

"Who's your friend here, Jean?",asked Scatty as she dusted herself off.

Jean cleared his throat as he prepared to introduce Bertrand. "Joan, Scathach...this is my long-time friend, Bertrand. We grew up together",he added quickly.

Bertrand did a slight bow before taking each of their hands and kissing the back of them. "How do you, fair ladies." Joan blushed and smiled lightly. But when he took Scatty's hand, she immediately took it away and pinched his cheeks hard.

"Oww!",he whined as he rubbed his cheeks with the palms of his hands."What was that for?"

"I should have warned you",said Joan apologetically. "It would be a mistake to kiss her hand."

"I'm not easily charmed",said Scatty her mouth opened to reveal pointed teeth, which made Bertrand swallow hard.

Jean nodded."I see",then turned back to Joan, scanning her from head to foot. "Wow. You look great!" He then gave her a friendly pat on the back.

"Really?", asked Joan as she pushed her hair back. Her gloved hands were still held on to her sword, point towards the ground.

"Oh, yes",said Jean approvingly. "And Scathach did a really great job with your hair. My barber could never cut so neat as this."

Scatty drooped her head."Oh stop it",she said embarrassed."Stop patronizing me."

Joan turned to look at her friend. "Is the great Scathach embarrassed?",she asked incredulously, yet amused.

Scatty stiffened and solemnly crossed her arms. "Humph. No...I'm just glad that someone appreciates my talents with a pair of scissors."

Joan smiled softly and reached over to hug her friend."Oh Scatty, you're my best friend! Of course I appreciate you."

Scatty lightened up and hugged her back. Jean and Bertrand meanwhile, stood to the side, heads touching. "Awwww",they both chimed.

Scatty and Joan let go of each other and tackled them to the ground. "We yield! We yield!",they called laughingly under weight of Joan's and Scatty's feet on their backs.

"You hear that Joan?",asked Scatty.

"I sure do, Scatty",replied Joan.

"And I thought boys liked to play tackle",she said in jest.

They laughed as Jean and Bertrand squirmed and struggled under their feet. "Let us go!"

Joan looked at Scatty and the Shadow sighed. "Fine!",she agreed and both of them released their prey.

Both men got up and Jean was about to say something, when a knight wearing a surcoat and mounted on a black horse rode through the iron gates.

He sped up to where the group was standing and expertly reared his steed at a foot away from them. The knight lifted his visor, revealing pale blue eyes and a thin blonde mustache. "Joan of Arc? Which one among you is Joan of Arc from Domremy",asked the knight in a deep accented tone.

Joan, with her sword by her side, stepped out from among them. "Yes, I am she",she said as she approached him."State your business with me."

The knight stared at her short hair and arming clothes, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. Finally, he said," I have a message for you, from my lord, the Duke of Lorraine." He then reached into the inside of his gauntlet and pulled out a rolled up parchment.

Joan reached out to receive it. They all watched as the knight lowered his visor and spurred his horse out of sight.

Joan stared at the rolled up paper in her hands before slowly turning around to face Jean, Bertrand, and Scatty. "So...do any of you know how to read? I can't", she said almost shyly.

"I can",volunteered Jean."May I have it, please?"

Joan more then gladly handed the letter to him. First, he studied the seal, which was how you could tell who it was from. "Yep. It's from the Duke of Lorraine, alright", he said, staring intently at the red waxen seal. Scatty smacked him on the head.

"We already know that, genius!",she exclaimed."We want to know what it says!"

"Alright! Alright!",muttered Jean defensibly as he cautiously broke the seal and unfolded the letter. As he did, the others gathered around him to look at it. Jean examined the writing, quickly reading it to himself. "The Duke of Lorraine is summoning Joan to his court, at Nancy(the city not the name)", he finally said.

"For what reason does he summons me?",asked Joan.

"Hmm, there seems to be no reason, only that he requires speech with you."

"Is that all?", Joan asked, raising a thin eyebrow.

"Let me check",said Jean, unsure. "Yes, there is one other thing. To ensure that you come, he have also sent his written assurance that none of his soldiers and servants shall molest you."

When he finished, they all looked to Joan for an answer. Joan paced and thought for a moment. _Perhaps I could get an escort from him, she thought. _

She then turned back to them and said,"OK, so we are going to Nacy. Are you going to come, Scatty?"

"Maybe. It depends on I feel tomorrow",replied the Shadow. "I usually like to sleep in on Wednesdays."

So after that, the friends departed. Jean and Bertrand went ahead to their duties in the castle, while Joan and Scatty went home for lunch.

* * *

Next morning

(Zzzzzzzzz) _Scatty..._

_Scatty..._

_Scatty!..._

_SCATTY!_

"I'm up!",shouted Scathach frantically as if she was late for something. She rubbed her eyes and squinted to see Joan's slender and boyish figure in front of her bed. "Huh...why did you woke me up?"

Pissed, she attempted to throw the pillow at Joan, who gracefully stepped aside.

Joan laughed."You missed", she said softly as she went to sit beside Scatty. "You didn't forget that we are going to Nancy today, have you? To see the Duke of Lorraine?"

Scatty dropped back down onto her pillow and pulled the covers back up over her body. "I know, I know",she said drowsily. "Can you just go without me? I told you that I like to sleep in on Wednesdays."

Joan sighed. Knowing Scatty, she understood that very few vampires are morning-people. It took some forever to teach themelves not to wince whenever the sunlight hits their skin. Joan stood up and began to go out the door. At the entrance, she paused and turned around."Sure, Scatty. I'll see you when we get back." A grin came upon her face when she remembered,"And don't get into any trouble while I'm gone."

Scatty made a noise that sounded a bit like a giggle mixed with snort. Then Joan left to meet up with Jean and Bertrand.

* * *

Outside Vaucouleurs

"Where is Scathach? Ain't she coming?",asked Jean to Joan. Both Jean and Bertrand are mounted, dressed for winter, and ready to go to Nancy.

Joan skillfully slid into the saddle, surprising both of them as she reined in her horse next to theirs. "No",replied Joan."She's sleeping." She blew a strand of hair off her face. "Now let's go!"

So armed with the Duke's letter, Joan kicked her horse into a gallop towards the dirt road, with Jean and Bertrand following after her. Along the way, Joan wanted to stop at the Shrine of St. Nicholas , where they attended a quick Mass service.

* * *

Vaucouleurs

Scatty strolled down a busy market street. She ignored the strange looks that she was getting from people who saw her. But she got to admit, a pale skinned, seventeen year old, read-headed girl with grassy green eyes was not exactly a common sight in Medieval France. As usual, her keep-sake twin swords hung by her sides from her black leather belt. Before she left the house, she changed into a new green doublet, but her pants were the same as yesterday's. Despite wearing a heavy woolen coat and and thick leather boots, the frozen air still stung by her skin.

It is already 8 o'clock, so the market is packed full of people. Farmers from nearby lands came to sell their produce, craftsmen and carpenters displayed their masterpieces and finished goods. Scatty's nostrils flared and she turned her head to the right to see a woman putting out fresh bread and cakes. The doughy, warm smell mingled in the air with the musky smell of pigs and cattle, and the light scent of waxen candles for sale.

"Help! Help! He's stealing my purse!"

Scatty turned around to see a ragged thief stealing a woman's purse. Acting swiftly, Scatty confronted him. "Hey, you! Give the woman her purse back!" She then unsheathed and brandished one her swords. "Or how about I cut off your hand and give it back myself?"

The thief stared at her, then her sword. He looked back in forth between them for a moment before yanking the purse and running quickly away, shoving and pushing through the terrified people.

A savage smile formed on Scatty's lips as she unsheathed her other sword. "Oh...so it's going to be like that, isn't it?" She sounded almost pleased at the prospect. "Fine by me!" Then she took off after him, red hair flying.

* * *

Nancy

"This reminds me of the good 'ol days",sniffled Bertrand as he absentmindedly wiped a single tear from his eye. After three hours of riding and saddle sores, Joan, Jean, and Bertrand finally made it to Nancy, where the Duke of Lorraine was in residence.

Joan raised a pencil thin eyebrow in question. "What do you mean by the good 'ol days?"

Jean coughed. "Well, this was where Bertrand and I first met."

"Oh"

Bertrand then joined in the conversation. "Yes, yes. I remember. Jean was the short kid who always missed the target during lance practice!"

An angry blush rose in Jeans cheeks and he huffed."So! My growth spurt was late, that's all!" He glanced sidelong at Bertrand. "At least I wasn't a tree!"

Bertrand frowned, but then resumed his cheerful appearance. "Anyways...we both came from noble families, and as the custom, we were sent to the Duke at age seven to learn the ways of the knight!" He added proudly.

"Then why didn't you stay with him?", asked Joan.

"Well...he wasn't paying us very well,so we went to work for Badricourt", answered Jean. "He was ferocious as a bear, but pays very, very well." There was silence for a while, then a question came to his mind. "Joan?"

"Yes Jean?" She turned to look at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling and beautiful.

"Um...uh...what do you...fight for?",he managed to stammer, much to Bertrand's delight.

Joan raised her face to the sky, then lowered it back to him. "Why, I fight for God and France",she replied smiling sweetly.

Jean felt his blush getting more intense, so afraid of being teased by Bertrand again, he decided that the best solution would be to look away quickly. "Oh, that's good then. I would also fight for those things."

Joan laughed and pat him gently on the arm, which caused him to wince a little...but in a good way.

They finally reached the front of the Duke's castle, where two heavily armed guards holding halberds asked for their business.

"Halt! State your business before entering."

Joan handed them the letter. They read it, looked at eachother in puzzlement, wondering what the Duke would want with a simple farm girl. But nontheless, they allowed them to enter anyways.

Once they entered the courtyard, three young pages came out to tend to their horses. A servant from the castle then ushered them into the front door, leading the way to the Duke of Lorraine.

* * *

The Duke of Lorraine's private chambers

When the trio entered the Duke's chambers, he was laying on a large and extravagant bed, surrounded by his nobles and wealthy friends. Joan was taken back by the many people present. A hand fell on her shoulder and she realized it was Jean's. "Don't worry. We'll be right behind you",he reassured softly.

They exchanged friendly glances. There were little fits of whispers among the gathered nobles, who looked at Joan awestruck as she advanced slowly toward the seemingly sick Duke. Everything about her was extraordinary to them, but they were mostly attracted by her short hair and male attire. To them, it was hard to believe she didn't grew a mustache to go along with it.

They soon learned that the Duke have been suffering from an unknown illness, and that he, having heard rumors about Joan and her powers to do miracles, had sent for Joan in hopes that she could heal him. When Joan was next to his bedside, he painfully sat himself up to get a better look at her. He glared at her for a moment, before saying slowly, "So, you are the maid whom it is said to have magical healing powers. Tell me, can you heal me of my sickness?" He looked at her with his sunken, and old brown eyes.

Joan's expression was blank. Slowly, she put her hands together as she answered, "Sir, in truth I do not know how to do such things." Joan took a deep breathe, before continuing, speaking as if she knew everything about him. "However, I highly suggest that you should return to God's favor so that He can aid you. You should no longer live in sin with your mistress, for your soul is impure. Also, give me your son-in-law, Rene Anjou, and some men to go with me to the Dauphin. If you do, I promise to pray for your recovery."

The Duke's expression showed a strange aspect. I was impossible for them to predict what he would do. All the nobles tried earnestly to get Joan away from the Duke, because the feared for her safety, for the Duke could be harsh and cruel man. "Never fear, you nobles. He cannot hurt me, for God is protecting me",declared Joan. Besides, Scathach wouldn't like it if he hurts her best friend. Finally, the Duke fell back upon his pillow and lightly ordered them to leave. Before they left, he gave Joan a small gift of four silver francs, which she gave to some poor beggars on their way back to Valcouleurs.

When Jean asked her why she did that, she smiled and said,"Because part of my mission is also to help the poor and needy. It's not all about fighting the English, you know."

Jean suddenly found himself having even more respect for her.

**So that was a weird meeting with the Duke of Lorraine. Joan just met him, yet she somehow knew everything about him. Well, Joan always had a gift for reading people and predicting the future...which we will get to later.**

**I'm very sorry for the late update! My laptop goes a-wall sometimes. School has been a pain in the neck lately. Luckily, it didn't ruin my brilliant sense of humor! (As you could tell by reading this chapter)**

**And for those who must know, yes Scatty did catch the vile scum and set him straight...and quite painfully might I add.;)**

**BTW I couldn't help but add in some fluffiness! So adorable!**

**Also in case you guys forgot, all of these characters belong to history, not mine. Except for Scatty, who belongs to Scottish mythology.**

**So as I said before, please review. Let me know if you want me to continue this. Don;t review, then I could take a hint. Virtual cookie for everyone who reviews! :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Sooo...this is just a little side story. I think you'll find it quite amusing... and a little bit sad. Please review. WARNING! Review, or I'll send bigfoot after you! Or werewolves! Didn't mean to freak you out...but yeah.**

February 16, 1429 Orleans

Count Dunois's Headquarters

"God damn it!" La Hire slammed his fists on the table. "That son of a bitch, John Stewart, ruined everything! It was supposed to be an easy victory!"

La Hire was standing over a long table in the private meeting chamber of Count Dunois. Sitting to his left, slouched and sober, was Louis de Culen, Admiral of France. Lord Patrick Ogilvy, a renowned Scottish commander, now stood up from his seat.

"Look, La Hire", he said sharply, pointing to the larger warrior across from him."My master is not to blame! It was a case of miscommunication!"

"Miscommunication my ass!",laughed La Hire scornfully. "His itching cock got the better of him, that's what it was! It was his fault for charging blindly into death, dragging one third of our forces with him!"

Ogilvy's face contorted in anger. "Well what was he suppose to do!",he retaliated, poking defiantly at La Hire's breastplate. "Was he supposed to just sit around and wait for you and Dunois while the English were almost past the point of attack?"

"We were getting reinforcements!"

Oglivy's hand were on his hips now. "And why would we need reinforcements?",he scoffed."The English were a force of only three hundred while we were a thousand! What are you all afraid of?"

La Hire drooped and shook his head. "You don't know what they're capable of..."Then his fire came back. "You Scots...once you get some damn scotch in you, you think you're invincible!"

The two men's faces were now centimeters away, the only thing keeping them apart was the wooden table between them. Meanwhile, Louis de Culen was oblivious to all of it, casually sipping his wine.

"Did you just say that my master was drunk...when he attacked?",asked Ogilvy, his eyes narrowed at the rough soldier.

A broad, sadistic smile was on La Hire's expression. "No, insane would be the correct word!",he barked, showering Ogilvy in saliva.

Ogilvy, with as much dignity as he could, wiped the spit of his face with a swipe of his palm. "You spit when you talk", he said coolly.

Then La Hire just lost it. He reached across the table, taking hold of Ogilvy's collar. Just as they were going at it, Count Dunois, other known as the Bastard of Orleans, entered the chamber. He was armed except a helmet, and a lavish cloak flowed elegantly with his movements. "That's enough of you two!", he shouted sternly. "I will not have that kind of appalling behavior in my headquarters!"

Seeing that the Count really meant it, the two men reluctantly released each other. They sat back down with angry mutterings.

"Bastard"

"Doody-head"

Satisfied, Dunois nodded and solemnly took his place at the head of the table. "Very good, La Hire and Lord Ogilvy",he began. "If you ever need to settle something violently, then do it outside, but never in my lodgings."

"Any news from the Dauphin yet?", asked La Hire.

Dunois face turned grim. "Unfortunately, no. I have not received any news from him yet. I just sent a message to him." He then called for his page and whispered something into his ear. The page soon came back with a silver platter carrying a wine decanter and four golden chalices. The Count ordered him away and the page did a quick bow before leaving.

"Here, have some wine",said Dunois as he poured wine into the first chalice and handed it to La Hire. Then Louis, and Ogilvy, and finally himself. "Alright gentlemen, so the plan is that, hopefully...the Dauphin will send supplies and food to us. Once they arrive, we will be able to hold off the siege and the English will give up eventually.

Both Ogilvy and La Hire nodded."Yes, that sounds like a reasonable and effective plan. The English have never been much patient in their conquests",said Ogilvy.

"Good, so we all agree..." He was stopped by the grave and disapproving look of Louis de Culen. "What is it Louis?"

The veteran Admiral stiffened and looked at the others in turn before saying, "By God as if, seven months did not satisfy you!", he said strongly."This whole plan of yours is going to take months to accomplish! Why would the English give up when they are so close?" He waited for an answer and none came. He was now on his feet. "The people, your people, Jean, they have lost all hope. They are demanding that we end this siege soon."

"You're right,"realized Dunois.

"I'm always right",smirked Louis de Culen as he settled back down.

"If only there was someway to restore morale among the citizens and our troops", wondered Dunois, his chin rested on his entwined fingers. Then all their heads turned to the Admiral, hoping he could provide a solution.

The Admiral cocked his head slightly and answered,"Well, I do have an acquaintance at Valcouleurs. He told me that there is a young girl, who claims to be the virgin in the prophecy."

The others stared blankly at the Admiral, then at each other. Sudden laughter was their reaction. "Hahahah!", laughed La Hire."A virgin! That's a good one, Louis!"

"I'm not kidding", said Louis de Culen seriously. "Think about it...her fame has already reached the people of Orleans and they believe in her! You know how hopeless people are. They're willing to believe in anything, even ancient prophecies."

Dunois signaled for the laughter to cease."Yes, go on."

Louis took in a shuddering breath before continuing. "This girl claims that angels and saints talked to her. She swears that they have told her that God wills that she shall lead the Dauphin's army to victory. I personally, don't believe whether it's true or not, but perhaps if we keep her in the role of a mascot, something for troops to follow, then maybe our men will take heart and fight again. Soldiers always want to follow something beautiful into battle",he added with a wry smile.

* * *

Same day, same year

Charles's Castle at Chinon

Charles VII, Dauphin and crown prince of France, sat in his over-sized, elegantly engraved cushioned chair. Spread out before him all over his smooth, wooden desk, were a bunch of papers. There were letters from his subjects, foreign messages, important state documents, and any others that he pretended to read and care about. He didn't even bother to reply to any of them himself, but had servants to do it for him.

Charles managed to let out a stifling yawn of genuine boredom as he skimmed over a letter from some Duke or Lord, talking about how the English are attacking their peasants. Then a knock came at the door and he immediately looked up. "Who is it?", he called.

"George la Tremoille and the Archbishop of Rheims are here to see you, your Majesty."

Charles beamed with joy, for Tremoille and and the Archbishop were his two favorite advisers. Plus, they were rich and could lend him money, which would usually come back to bite him in the neck later. "Allow them to enter."

The great double doors opened and Tremoille and the Archbishop strolled in, looking all high and mighty. Compared to Charles's moth-eaten clothes, George la Tremoille and the Archbishop were dressed in only the finest and costly of clothing with their jewels and their blings around their neck and rings bedecked on their bony fingers. "Greetings, Tremoille and Archbishop, please-"He gestured to the chairs in front of him,"-have a seat."

Both of them acknowledged with a nod and accepted his invitation to sit. As soon as they were comfortable, Charles asked them, "What brings you here to my chambers today, my wise advisers?"

Tremoille cleared his throat before pulling out a rolled up paper scroll from his sleeve. "This came today from Valcouleurs, your Highness", he explained before placing it into Charles's outstretched hand.

Charles broke the seal of the paper and unrolled it carefully. His eyes flitted on the content of it. Then suddenly, a tight smile came upon his face and he chuckled to himself. "What is so amusing about it?", asked the Archbishop puzzled.

Charles laughed softly. "Oh, it's just that this letter is from Robert de Badricourt, governor of Valcouleurs. He claims that a young girl have been pestering him to send her to see me. It says that she claims to talk to angels and saints, and that she is the virgin in the prophecy to save France." He glared at Tremoille and the Archbishop, who were apparently on the edge of their seats, intrigued. "Badricourt wants my opinion on how to deal with her." Ever hesitant and dependent on others, Charles asked his advisers on what he should do.

"Why, tell him to send her home! By force if needs be", said Tremoille flatly.

The Archbishop nodded in agreement, his beard bobbing up and down,"I agree with Tremoille, your Majesty. "That girl is clearly mad, or it could possibly even be a trap by the English or Burundians."

"Or both",added Tremoille cautiously.

Despite their constant support of Charles, he was merely a puppet for them to control and manipulate. He was only an ill-used pawn in their quest for power. They were successful by feeding off of Charles's insecurities and weaknesses, by magnifying them into great proportions. They were also shrewd and cunning veterans in this complex and deadly game, of politics and religion. Yes, because at that time, the Church dominated along side politics. So with Tremoille and the Archbishop of Rheims together, they could get away with anything. All of Charles's other advisers were only cold-blooded reptile minions of theirs. The nobles who supported them were on their payroll, and those who get in their way were immediately eliminated. So in truth, it was Tremoille and the Archbishop who really ruled France. They could not care less if the English are sweeping across the land and that people, innocent people were dying. So could they possibly have been afraid that a charismatic, seventeen year old girl would be a threat to them?

However, there was a third string attached, which is equally powerful and cunning.

Charles took out a new sheet of paper and dipped his feather pen in some ink. "Alright...then I'll reply to him..."

The door opened again, and this time, the third string entered. She was Yolande of Aragon, Charles's mother-in-law and one of his wisest and most trusted advisers. Beautiful, clever, and determined, Yolande has devoted her life to aiding Charles in his royal duties. Apparently, she was the closest to a real and affectionate mother as he could ever have. His biological mother had the nerve to declare him illegitimate and did not want anything to do with him. A heart could only take so much disappointment, you know. She was the thorn in Tremoille's and the Archbishop's side and she won't be the last. Though age have began to take a toll on her body, she was ever still noble and lovely.

Yolande was wearing a fur trimmed dress and matching fur trimmed hat. Following after her, were her ladies-in-waiting, which included only the most modest and mature of women.

"Greetings, mother, you look lovely this evening",he greeted her, pen hanging in midair above the paper. She gave him her hand and he graciously kissed the back of it. "Is there something you need to tell me, mother?"

Ignoring the dirty looks she was getting from the other two men, she asked,"So I heard that you are talking about a girl, are you not, Charles?"

"Oh, so we're eavesdropping now, aren't we?", said Tremoille sharply.

Without turning her head, she gazed sidelong at Tremoille who was smiling smugly. "No, I just have really good hearing for my age", she replied coolly."At least I'm not a deaf rat who has a network of nosy spies to do my hearing for me",she added quickly.

Tremoille scowled and curses her under his breath.

Charles smiled tightly and nodded."Why, yes mother, we were." He held up the letter from Badricourt. "Tremoille and the Archbishop here, have advised that it would be best to reply to him to send her home."

"Yes, because that is the best thing to do!", exclaimed Tremoille triumphantly as he rose from his seat.

"The girl is clearly mad, because only those who are blessed and serve the Church can talk with God", added the Archbishop, stroking his beard.

Yolande disapproved. Unlike Tremoille and the Archbishop who are keeping Charles from important matters, she is actually trying to keep him on track of things. "Nonsense!", she exclaimed, throwing her hands up."Here, give me the letter, Charles."

Charles obeyed and handed Yolande the letter, who read it with great interest. "Why, Charles!", she began. "This girl...she is exactly what you need to put some heart back into your soldiers!"

"Then what are you suggesting mother?", asked Charles, completely ignoring Tremoille's and the Archbishop's presence.

"Your soldiers, Charles. They are demoralized, depressed. They are still moping from that disastrous defeat near Orleans." Her eyes widened and her face lit up."This girl, Charles...she is exactly the kind of divine inspiration that we need to put the favor on our side!"

She then moved to stand next to Charles. She guided his hand to the paper and told him, "Now, forget what they said. Instead, tell Badricourt to go ahead and sent the girl to us. The sooner, the better."

Not wanting to displease his mother-in-law, Charles did as he was told. "There, it's done now." He then put the feather pen away and melted wax onto the empty space below his writing. He then took a stamp and pressed the royal seal onto the wax, creating an image. Tremoille and the Archbishop could only stand idly by and watch.

However, this was not over. Yolande might have won this round, but there will be many more to come. For they are already plotting and finding ways to use the mad girl to their own advantage.

Yolande was satisfied and rolled up the paper. "You have done well, my son",she praised. She then went over to one of her ladies-in-waiting and whispered something into her ear. Then she handed over the letter and that woman curtsied and left the room with it.

Yolande then turned her attention back to Charles, smiling broadly at Tremoille's and the Archbishop's clouded expressions. She pulled out a letter from her sleeve and handed it Charles. "This just came from the Bastard of Orleans. He is greatly in need of food and supplies. I want your permission to organize a relief force to bring them to Orleans."

Charles nodded approvingly."You have my permission, mother, I trust you."

Yolande smiled lovingly and caressed he cheek for a moment before turning away and leaving, her ladies-in-waiting following after.

Charles allowed himself a light sigh before sitting down and resting his head on his hand.

Tremoille and the Archbishop coughed to get his attention. Charles immediately snapped out of his trance."Hm? Yes?"

"Your Majesty", began Tremoille."We highly suggest that in the meantime, we might as well try to negotiate with your cousin, the Duke of Burgundy."

_Burgundy_

Charles could feel his smile fall from his face. His eyes were now sullen and his expression grim. Along with fighting the English, the French were also caught up in a bloody civil war between the Royal house of Valois, and the fiefdom of Burgundy. One was led by Louis, the Duke of Orleans, while Burgundy was led by their Duke John. It was over the guardianship of the royal children, for both of them were Charles's uncle by marriage. When Louis was assassinated by Burgundian supporters, things got out of hand. Charles's cousin, the current Duke Phillip of Burgundy, hated and loathed him for what his people have done to his father.

To get revenge, the Orleanists arranged for young Charles to meet with the Duke of Burgundy peacefully. The setting chose was on a bridge. The events of that day were pretty vague, but they still haunt Charles to this day. Unbeknownst to Charles, the Orleanists were planning to murder the Duke of Burgundy at the meeting. The next thing he knew the knights that accompanied Charles suddenly rushed upon him with their swords and maces raised. Duke John lied dead upon the bridge, a pool of blood forming around his head and the stump from where his left hand was cut off.

That day would forever live on in infamy. The murder of Duke John turned out to be a really deadly mistake, a mistake that poor France would pay dearly for with the blood of her ailing people. Duke Phillip was furious and formed an alliance with the English. Together, they ravaged the countryside, killing, plundering, and menacing the poor peasants. There seemed no peace in sight.

Charles cupped his face with his hands and slowly brought them down his face. His fingers gripped the table and he drooped his head."Yes, you may." His tone was rigid as he tried to hold back tears. "He then looked up at them with those pale gray eyes of his."Do whatever it takes to bring peace between us and Burgundy. I have always hated how this war have torn us apart."

Suddenly, a feeling of sympathy rose up in both Tremoille and the Archbishop. It was one of those rare ocassions when they felt bad for another living thing instead of themselves. The nodded solemnly and in answered in an almost friendly tone, "Yes, your Majesty. We will do as you wish." Then they left without another word, leaving Charles by himself with his feelings.

**So yeah, I felt bad for not updating for so long, so I uploaded 2 at once! Virtual cookies! (::)(::)(::)(::)(::)(::)**

**Personally, I felt so bad for Charles. Funfact: His father went mad. REALLY MAD! He thought he was made of glass, threw his shit at the window, and wore ridicoulously thick and padded clothing because he was 'breakable'. He was also insanely paranoid and thought that everybody wanted to kill him. He even went as far as assaulting and killing his own servants!**

**So then his mother cheated on his father with many different men, so her claim that Charles was illegitimate might be true. She was a *beep* whore. She did not want anything to do with Charles or his four older brothers. They all died young, so Charles was the only surviving heir when his father died. So when King Henry V won the famous battle of Agincourt, his mother forced the mad king to hand his kingdom over to Henry. To seal the deal, Charles's sister, Catherine, marries king Henry. They produced a son, Henry VI. Luckily, when little Henry got older, he also went mad! I guess madness runs in the family. "Curse, you grandpa!"**

**And also coming soon, more wickedness from George la Tremoille and the Archbishop of Rheims. Thank godness for Yolande of Aragon! She will prove to be a big help to Joan and Scathach later. **

**Ciao! Don't forget to review! :)**


	10. Chapter 9

**OK chapter 9! Man, I love writing this story. I also love you guys! **

February 17, 1429

This morning, Robert de Baudricourt and the local Priest are paying a visit to the Royer's house. Baudricourt chose Jean de Metz and Bertrand to accompany him, which turned out to give him a gigantic headache. Jean and Bertrand hovered around him like a fog, going on and on and on and on about how good and holy and kind Joan was.

"Please Baudricourt, just send her to Chinon already! By God you're so stubborn!",exclaimed Jean from behind, earning disapproving looks from the Priest.

Baudricourt came to the front steps of the house, and with one foot on the first step, turned back to face them. "Don't you two ever shut up!" His tone was sharp and angry, causing both of them to give distance and became quiet. "Oh, I'm sorry guys...I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

Then Bertrand came forward and said,"It's alright, Buadricourt. It's our fault for pestering you so much." He then glanced at Jean, who nodded.

Baudricourt shook his head incredulously. "I just can't take any chances right now, you know? My reputation is on the line, because of her." His hands formed into fists by his side." I won't tolerate being a laughing stock if I handle this wrong." Then he gestured for them to follow, as he reached for the door and swung it open.

* * *

Inside the house

It was another normal day that morning in the Royer's home. Madame Royer sat by the fire spinning and doing needlework. Her focus was intense as she put the needle in and out, in and out, her fingers moving delicately and carefully along.

"Ow",exclaimed Madame Royer when the needle pricked her finger.

"Are you alright, Madame?",called Joan, concerned.

Madame Royer sucked the blood off her finger and wiped it clean on her apron. "I'm fine, sweety. Thank you for asking." She then continued with her work.

Meanwhile, Joan and Scatty were lounging on a couch talking, with Madame Royer occasionally joining in. "So what happened to the thief?", asked Joan to Scatty.

"Oh, I gave him a lesson on why he souldn't steal",answered Scatty as she ran her hand over her twin swords lightly."That was before I turned him over to the authorities."

"Well, I'm proud of you then", said Joan Joan cheerily as she took a sip of water from a cup she was holding.

BAM! The door suddenly flung open, causing Joan and Scatty to spring into action. Scatty bared her twin swords, while Joan stood to her right, sword and aura blazing. Meanwhile, Madame Royer ran and hid in the kitchen. Joan and Scatty were prepared to defend this house with their last breath.

They saw shadowy figures approaching, and only lowered there weapons when they realized that it was just Baudricourt...and Jean and Bertrand and the Priest.

"Baudricourt? What are you doing here?", asked both girls at the same time.

Seeing that they were armed, Baudricourt held up his hands in caution. "Aright, I didn't come here for trouble", he said, glancing at their swords.

Following his gaze, they immediately put away their weapons. "Why did you do that Baudricourt?", asked Joan.

Madame Royer's head poked out in the entrance to the kitchen. "Baudricourt! What's all this that's happening?", she asked surprised.

Baudricourt came farther into house and bowed to Madame Royer. "No need to fear, Madame. I'm only here to see Joan. I highly suggest that you go upstairs until we are done."

Madame Royer gave Joan and Scatty a questioning look, who only shrugged and shook their heads. Slowly and quietly, she went up the stairs and was out of sight.

Once satisfied, Baudricourt then turned back to Joan and Scatty. Jean, Bertrand, and the Priest were already in the house by this time. "OK", he began."First of all, that was for breaking into my castle...And second, we have received news of the battle you predicted, that indeed did occurred on that day."

Joan crossed her arms across her chest. "See? I warned you."

Baudricourt held his hand up and signaled for silence. "Hold on, I'm not finished yet!" Joan nodded in acknowledgement and allowed him to continue. As he talked, he paced slowly back in forth. "Now, ever since that you've predicted that battle, I've been doing some thinking..."

Jean coughed loudly. "Sorry."

Baudricourt's brows furrowed a bit, but soon passed."I've been doing some thinking...and came to the conclusion that there are two possible ways that you could have known that. One would be God, and the other is Satan." Baudricourt suddenly stopped pacing and approached closer to Joan, oblivious to Scathach, who was standing right beside her. "So which one is it?"

The room was dead silent. Then without waiting for an answer, he called out, "Never mind that! We shall soon find out!" Then turning to the Priest, he ordered, "Priest, do your duty!" The Priest meekly nodded before turning his attention to Joan.

He began the exorcism by sprinkling holy water at her. As he did so, he chanted, "In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen. I command you spirit, begone from us if you are of evil, or come to us if you are good!"

"What the heck is he doing?", asked Scatty confused.

Baudricourt looked shockingly at her. "Why, what do you think? He's conducting an exorcism! Don't they perform those where you come from?"

Scatty glared at him. "No", she said then turned back to the event at present. Throughout her life on this Earth, Scatty had came in contact with many kinds of civilizations, and witnessed the different acts of exorcisms for each one. Every people told stories of evil and wicked spirits that roam among the living. Possession by an evil spirit was a common sight. Mystical shawmen and wizards and healers in these civilizations held special status in their communities for there alleged ability to communicate with these spirits, as well as to drive them out. This was no different than the others.

They expected for Joan's body to start shaking uncontrollably, and for her to collapse to the floor screaming and moaning...or at least for her to run and fly away from them, as people who are possessed usually do. Instead, it was the complete opposite.

Joan remained calm, and slowly made her way to the Priest. Scatty, Jean, and Bertrand didn't let her out of their sights as she did. She then reverently fell to her knees before him and embraces his cassock(ceremonial robe). The Priest was satisfied and gently placed his hand on her head. Then turning his head to look at Badricourt who was stroking his beard, said, "Sir, there is no evil in this girl. You may use her without fear, and you need to do it soon." He added cautiously.

Jean and Bertrand now turned their gaze to Baudricourt, who stood there deep in thought. Finally, he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and said, "Thank you, and I'll be sure to consider your advice." That was all. With that, Baudricourt left as abruptly as he entered.

Scatty went over and helped Joan up. The Priest bowed in farewell, and they returned it. "Why, Father? I went to Church everyday, and you've heard my confessions!",asked Joan, obviously hurt that her moral was being questioned like that.

The Priest just shrugged sympathetically. "I don't know, Jeanne. That's just Baudricourt being Baudricourt", he added with a wry smile. Then he took her hand in both of his and said softly, "You're a good girl, Jeanne. May God bless you with good fortune."

"Thank you, Father. May God bless you, also",replied Joan smiling in gratitude.

Then the Priest turned to Scatty, and took her hand in his in turn. "And you, Scathach, Jeanne have told me so much about you."

Scatty looked at Joan and blushed little. The Priest continued by saying, "It pleases me to know that she has a good and loyal friend as you to accompany her on her mission, which I absolutely, without a doubt, know that is from God." He released her hand and took a last look at them before finally leaving, closing the door behind him.

Joan and Scatty stood there for a moment, trying to assess what had just happened. "Well, that was surprising", sighed Joan heavily as she started towards the stairs.

"No kidding!", said Scatty as she went into the kitchen and poured herself some scotch. "At least he didn't blew up the door like you did."

Joan laughed. "I had no choice!", she exclaimed. "Oh, Madame Royer! You can come down now!"

Madame Royer appeared at the top of the stairs and called, "Is he gone? Did Badricourt left?"

"Yes, Madame, he just left."

Madame Royer then descended the stairs and went to the kitchen. "Would you girls like some pork sandwiches for lunch later?", she called.

"Yes!", replied both Joan and Scatty.

Joan let out a stifling yawn. "Well, I'm going to take a quick nap, now", she announced as she began up the stairs.

"OK", said Scatty as she had her hands up, getting ready to catch a fly. "Gotcha!" The remains of the poor fly was now smeared on both of her palms.

"You're so childish, sometimes", commented Joan before disappearing upstairs.

* * *

The next week

Many days after that faithful day and nothing decided, the gang was starting to lose hope. Finally, Baudricourt sent for Bertrand and Jean to meet him for dinner. They thought it was strange, but went along with it anyways.

They left their posts with the guards and went to meet with him in his private chambers. When they entered, Baudricourt was already drinking the wine. "Ah, come in, come in! Have a seat."

We reluctantly sat down and he ordered for food to be brought in. "So what now, Baudricourt?", asked Jean impatiently. "Why did you call us here?"

Baudricourt ignored the question and instead, poured wine unto two cups. "Here, partake in some wine. You guys deserve it!"

He slid the cups in front of them, but they didn't take it. "Seriously, Baudricourt. Why are we here?", repeated Bertrand.

Then the servant came in carrying a large silver platter, bearing a large roasted boar. A classic apple was stuffed neatly in its mouth. They watched as the servant set it down on the table. Meanwhile, saliva formed in their mouths and their nostrils flared at the mouth-watering aroma.

Jean and Bertrand was able to shake off the feeling and focused back on the present situation. They demanded an answer. Seeing that he couldn't stall them forever, Baudricourt sighed in frustration and said, "Alright, I'll tell you. Now, the reason I have invited you here tonight...is to tell you my final decision about that Joan girl." He said his world slowly and cautiously, seeing the imminent look of disbelief on Jean and Bertrand's faces.

Though shocked and at the same time, glad, Jean and Bertrand did not show it, but only nodded for him to continue.

"A few weeks ago", he continued,"I wrote a letter to the Dauphin, knowing that this would be far too great for me to decide. So here is the shocking part." He was now leaning at the edge of his seat, legs spread, and a hand resting heavily on his left knee. They could tell that his voice was rising steadily, higher and higher. "Vienne, the royal messenger, had just arrive with a letter...a letter,mind you, written by the Dauphin's very own hands!"

He took another gulp of wine before continuing to speak. "That miserable, scrawny , little coward must be really desperate, for he actually wants to see the girl!" Then he added more lightly, "That is why I am giving you two, the responsibility of taking her to Chinon. I don't care how you do it, just take her out of here, and that red-headed friend of hers, too. There, you got what you wanted. Are you happy now?"

Jean and Bertrand just sat their staring at him, jaws gaping, for they couldn't believe their ears! The bull-headed Baudricourt have finally yielded! Finally...and not surprisingly...they responded by breaking into fits of cheers and whoops and rooting! They could not contain their joy at this fortunate turn of events.

They joyfully took shared in the governor's wine. They toasted his health, and for the start of their brand new adventure! Later that evening, after recovering their balance and composure, they went quickly to the Royer's house, to inform the girls of the news. The frozen dirt crunched beneath our feet as they ran down the dimly lit street. It was already heading towards 10'o clock. Most of the town were already asleep.

When they reached the house, they found the window of the room that Joan and Scatty was staying in. They cupped their hands around their mouths and shouted, "Joan! Scathach! Good news! Baudricourt has finally given us permission to ride to Chinon!"

For a moment, their was only silence, except for the distant barking and howling of dogs. Then the shudders of the window opened, and Jean and Bertrand were met with a face-full of pillows thrown at them. When they looked up, they saw the sleepy figures of Joan and Scatty in the window. Both were wearing white linen night shirts.

"Really?! You're kidding!", exclaimed both of them in unified disbelief.

"Nope. We're not kidding! He finally cracked!", reassured Jean, a broad smile on his face.

Scatty and Joan squealed and hugged each other with excitement. "Thank you, Jean! Bertrand!", called down Joan,"Can you guys be ready to leave tomorrow morning?"

They gave a swift military salute. "Indeed, Joan! We shall see to it!"

"Great!", exclaimed Scatty. "And...um...can you guys toss up the pillows, please?"

They gladly did as told and started towards town, cheering and whooping all the way. The jumped and leaped in the air without a care in the world. Joan and Scatty laughed at their merry antics. Scatty turned to look at Joan and said, "So...it's really happening."

Joan nodded slowly. "Yes, it's really happening", she said with a light smile. "Then so be it. May God's grace be forever with us...always" Joan's eyes fell upon the clear moonlit sky on yonder.

Scatty gently laid a hand on her friend's shoulder, and together they went back to sleep. They had a long journey ahead of them tomorrow. "And I was worried that we might never get out of here!", remarked Scatty relieved.

* * *

Midnight, Charles's Castle at Chinon

The storm outside raged and thundered on as Charles, with his body and mind both unable to find any rest, slowly made his way down the dark hall. His only source of light was a small waxen candle. Since he could not find any peace in his bed, Charles cautiously made his way into his private chapel. He needs to get a stone-like burden of his chest, which he knew only God could do.

Charles carefully closed the chapel's door, which gave out a low creak as he did. Once it was closed, the sound of the storm somewhat lessened, and the dark stillness of the sacred place enveloped him. Charles turned around and using his candle which he held with one hand, began to walk along the narrow carpet that went all the way up to the tabernacle. There,he placed the candle on top of a short stone pillar, and fell to his knees before it

Charles dropped his head and held his hands together, before praying silently to himself:

_Dear Lord God...I, Charles VII, your devout worshiper am praying to you from the very depths of my heart and soul. It is my wish and hope that if I am not my father's son and rightful heir to the crown, that You be merciful and allow me to escape to one of France's allies, such as Spain or Scotland, once the English have won...But, if I truly am illegitimate, give me a sign, give me a victory, give me anything to let me know that the crown belongs to me! Do this, and You will help to ease the burden that weighs upon my heart._

He genuflects, "Amen."

Then rising solemnly, he took the candle and headed towards bed, now that he have brought up his problem to God.

* * *

Tuesday February 23, 1429 Vaucouleurs

So Joan chose February 23 to start for Chinon and her DESTINY(I meant to do that). The early morning air was filled was filled by a thick fog that wrapped and lingered around them like a ghost. Yet, it was a blessing, since it would help to conceal them from the enemy bands roaming the roads. Bertrand and Jean were semi-armed with swords, knee and thigh plates, and breastplates and helmets.

They were checking on their horses when Joan and Scatty arrived, equipped and ready for the long journey that they were about to embark on. Both wore heavy woolen, hooded cloaks. Joan wore a felt cap, while Scatty was fully armored in black and silver armor. Joan's longsword hung from a leather sheathe at her side, so were Scatty's short swords. (I'm assuming that Scatty didn't have nun-chucks at this time)

"Well, well", remarked Jean. "Very punctual aren't we?"

"Thank you again, Jean and Bertrand. We really appreciate your help", said Joan happily. "Right, Scatty?"

Scatty nodded affirmatively. "Right!"

Jean and Bertrand then introduced them to the others who were also coming along. Julian and Jean de Honecourt were brothers who also worked for Badricourt. They were busy with tying the supplies to the pack-horses, but the animals' rebellion made it difficult.

"Hey! You guys need a hand?", asked Scatty.

"Sure, be our guest", replied Julian while panting heavily.

Scatty smirks, then assumed her most stern face. She went right up the rebellious animal and looked it directly in the eye. The hardy packhorse returned her stare with equal intensity.

"What do you reckon she's doing", wondered Jean out loud, scratching his head in bewilderment.

"How the heck should I know?", said his brother.

Scatty and the donkey kept this up for a few seconds until...SMACK!

Scatty just slapped that donkey on the face! "BEHAVE!", she yelled at it.

The donkey's ears drooped and the once bold animal just whimpered, and made a slow, sort of nodding movement with its head, like a child harshly scolded by his mother. Scatty then walked away triumphant, leaving Jean and Julian mystified. However, they soon got back to work, with absolutely no resistance from the animal.

Richard the Archer, and Colet de Vienne, the Dauphin's messenger, were also joining them for the journey. Now that they only have a few more minutes inside the safe, strong walls of Vaucouleurs, Jean and Bertrand weren't as joyous as they were last night. For the full force of the dangers and risks of this journey have finally entered their brains.

Their fears were confirmed when Colet warned them about the many roving bands of English and Burgundian soldiers. He claimed that it was purely through God's intervention that he made it to Valcouleurs alive. They then decided to not take any chances, and stuffed rags into the hollow of their horses' hooves, to deaden the sound they make. The last thing they wanted to do was draw attention to themselves. They were also worried about Joan and Scatty's safety, but knew that they could easily defend themselves. Their performance at the duel was quite impressive.

Baudricourt then emerged from the castle just as the group were mounting their steeds. He slowly walked over and adressed them, "I want all of you to swear right here, that you will guard this girl with your life and take her safely to Chinon!"

"We swear!"

Scatty reared in her horse next to him. "So old man, are you going to miss us?"

"Not a chance!", he scoffed. Then with a loud voice, he ordered for the iron gate to be opened. As they were about to leave, he came over to Joan and said, "Go, go and let come what may. May the Lord grant you godspeed on your journey."

Joan looked lovingly into his eyes and replied, "Thank you, Baudricourt. I shall honor your blessing."

"Well, Joan, I think you just did something never before done", remarked Scatty as they rode side by side.

Joan raised an eyebrow." And what would that be?"

Scatty shrugged elegantly with her shoulders. "You taught an old soul how to believe again, I guess."

As they rode passed the onlooking crowd that had gathered to watch their departure, a woman called out, "Jeanne! Are you not afraid?"

Joan turned to the woman and flashed her a reassuring smile. "I fear nothing, for God is with me." Then she took Scatty's hand and added, "I also have Scathach, the most loyal friend I could ever have." Scatty returned a look of gratitude and the two girls were that way for only a few seconds.

Then turning back to the crowd and exclaimed, "It was for this that I was born!" Then taking out her sword, she pointed toward and called, "In God's name, forward!"

**Yes! Finally! They're hitting the road! By the time they get to Chinon, they had traveled through 150 miles of hostile territory of enemy marauding troops who would willingly cut them to pieces with absolutey no problem.**

**Oh, Joan. You weren't born to only save France. You were also born to save the UNIVERSE!**

**OK Spoiler Alert: Since it's going to take a while, I telling you guys now that Hekate, yes THAT Hekate, will eventually make a special appearance! I have it all planned out, so bear with me.**

**According to legend, when Joan and Charles met for the first time, he asked her for a sign. The sign was supposedly that Joan recited a prayer to Charles that he himself made exactly. It was a pretty big deal, because he made it MENTALLY. So there was no way anyone else could have heard it. That sign became their special secret, which Joan took with her to her 'death'.(She didn't really die because Scatty rescued her, duh. I do not care what history says) Charles however, revealed the secret to a close friend while on his deathbed.**

**Thanks to all of you for reviewing! By this time you guys should now that I absolutely, really LOVE reviews!**

**(Applause) Thank you all so much for voting me, 'Best Fanfic Writer of the Year'. I would like to thank specifically, IGotDaFeels, Scathachrox, MythoBoy, and Ziva10! I couldn't have done this without their constant support and friendship. God bless you guys and your fanfics! ;)**

**Pfft lol Yeah, that's not a real award. But I meant every word I said after that. Without you guys, I would die...or at least stop writing fanfics. So don't forget to review!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Beep boop beep blee beep boo. (Robot for 'Greetings') Welcome to Chapter 10. Enjoy the ride. Random stuff. Heading to destination: Chinon**

**Only requirements: Reviews on specific details. I know there's a lot of history, so might as well get an A on your history test. History is my Superpower!:) Math is my uh kryptonite (Did I spell it right? I'm not really into superheroes) :( **

Where we left off...

An owl calls in the hour of midnight. Our heroes rode on under the cloudy moonlit sky. It has been hours since they have left Vaucouleurs for Chinon, where Joan of Arc would see the Dauphin. Colet de Vienne and Richard the Archer, who knew the terrains better than anyone, led in the front. Then Joan and Scatty were in the middle, with Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulegny on each side. Newbies Julian and Jean de Honecourt took up the rear with the pack-horses.

The party made slow progress that night, for they were in enemy territory and capture would mean certain DEATH! Vigilantly, they traversed through the woods and avoided the main roads, for the enemy controlled them. They remained alert at all times, and earlier have managed to bypass a patrolling band of Burgundian and English soldiers. It was at that moment that they learned word has somehow leaked out about their expedition. The enemy have placed a price on their heads.

Jean de Metz was surprised at the lack of talking. "_Hmm, everyone is so quiet", he mused. "And very little swearing-"_

"Damn hell, this saddle is killing me!", shouted Julian angrily from the rear.

_"OK, scratch that."_

"Keep it down back there!", called back Scatty.

"But my rear-end bloody hurts!", complained Julian, fidgeting uncomfortably in his saddle.

"Deal with it! You'll get us all caught with your whining", replied Scatty slightly annoyed.

Joan look back over her shoulder at Julian. She glared at him intensely. "And swearing is not going to help you!", she exclaimed sharply. "There shall be no more swearing, got it?", she said loud enough only for everybody to hear.

"Yes, Joan!", they answered in unison, except for Scatty.

"Whoa", remarked Scatty shocked, yet proud. "You're starting to show some good leadership skills!"

Although it was dark, Scatty could tell that Joan was smiling. "Well, I figured that I should start now. Have you ever led an army before?"

Scatty thought for a while, trying to remember. "Let me see...I once led an army of Bearmen against some Middle Eastern ghoul bandits."

"Who won?", asked Joan, even though she already sort of knew the answer.

Scatty casually ran her fingers through her mass of red hair. "Why, who else?", she replied with a grin. "We chased them off a cliff."

As she was talking, Bertrand overheard and guided his horse over to them. "What's this about ghouls and Bearmen?"

"Um..uh...nothing!", exclaimed both Joan and Scatty. They were trying to hide the existence of the supernatural away from him and the others.

"We...were just talking about how warriors from my clan are called Bearmen", explained Scathach more calmly. "Right, Joan?"

"Yes! That's right!", said Joan, playing along. "Isn't that interesting Bertrand?"

Luckily, Bertrand didn't notice their nervous expressions. He only said, "That is very interesting, indeed! They must be very fine warriors."

Scatty nodded firmly. "Yes, yes they are."

Just then, Joan let out a loud yawn. "Are you tired, Joan?", asked Bertrand concerned.

Joan looked at him drowsily and nodded.

"Well, don't worry. Colet said that there is a sanctuary up ahead, where we could rest", he reassured them.

So they rode on through the night, without as much as a complaint from anyone. Julian just had to toughen up and endure his saddle sores like a man, for he surely did not want to get yelled at by Joan again.

* * *

Dawn of February 24, 1429

Early the next morning after a long night of riding and uneasiness, the group was finally able to reach the Abbey of Saint Urbain, which was run by monks. The monks took their horses to the stables while another led them to their room. As they were led down the hall, the monk took a quick glance at the two girls occasionally. When Scatty bared her pointed fangs, he immediately flushed and turned away quickly.

"So here is your room", announced the monk when he opened an ancient wooden door into a room."It isn't much, but is better than out in the cold, eh?"

They all bowed and thanked the monk, who then left. Their room was large and sort of octagon-shaped. Dull stone pillars were at every corner. There was a decent fireplace with a small roaring fire, and only one window. The floor was strewn with hay and straw.

"Alright, guys...try and get some sleep. We'll be riding again at noon", Jean de Metz reminded the group.

Joan did not need to be told twice to go to sleep. Once she hit the hay, quite literally, she immediately fell into a deep slumber. The rest of them soon were able to rest. Except for Scathach, who stood arms crossed, eyes looking out into the winter night sky.

Jean, who was settled near Joan, asked, "Scathach? Are you not tired?"

Scatty glanced at him, her glass green eyes glowing like a lantern. "You don't know me, Jean. I don't need sleep." She then smiled and turned her head back towards the window. "But you should get some rest, now. Don't worry about me."

Jean was curious about what she meant, but was too tired to ponder over it. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Jean", replied Scatty still looking out the window.

Jean then took a moment to savor Joan's peaceful sleep. Her face was so calm and serene. As he watched, a warm, tingling feeling started to form in his heart. It soon passed, however, and he did not dwell on it, but went fast to sleep. (Hmm, I wonder what that mysterious feeling was ;)

* * *

They attended Mass before resuming their journey that afternoon. Seeing that the others still had the jitters, Joan revived their spirits by exclaiming, "Trust in the Lord! For He shall protect us and we will arrive at Chinon safely."

Scatty shook her head and said softly, "Are you sure we'll make it? I'm not worried about us, but it's THEM who should be more careful."

They both looked back over their shoulders to see Julian picking his nose. His finger was way deep in there. Joan and Scatty shuddered. "Well we can't just ditch them", said Joan. "We'll make it soon enough. If I wasn't sure of this, then I would've stayed at home."

Joan moved her horse up ahead a little, with Scatty just behind her. "We could try can't we?", she persisted.

Joan only laughed and kept on looking ahead. Then she noticed Jean de Metz riding near her. "You know, I very much appreciated your help with Badricourt", she said sweetly.

Jean looked up and smiled. "Oh, it was no problem really." Then their was silence between them. Then Jean let out short sigh and said, "I am very glad for your appreciation of me, Joan. I hope your mission will be successful."

Joan glanced at him with shining blue eyes, and replied, "No, Jean, it is not my mission. It is now OUR mission, for my friends will help me accomplish it."

Jean was extremely touched and couldn't say anything, but only smiled at her.

Scatty, meanwhile, saw sparks flying, apparently. She couldn't help, but noticed how Jean looked at Joan. It was deep and sentimental, like he'll protect her from anything...which was HER job. Scatty sighed lovingly at the sight. It was times like this that made her miss Cuchulain. But now, she'll just have to bury her feelings...again.

* * *

February 25, 1429

The early dawn of February 25 brought the small group somewhere near the Burgundian town of Clairvaux, located along the Aube River (BTW They will have to cross A LOT of rivers! And I know someone who hates getting wet...) They found a nice thicket near the woods to rest in. Making a fire was out of the question, for they couldn't risk giving away their location.

The bridge, they knew, was controlled by the enemy. So they were forced to look for a safe place to cross the river, which is unfortunate for Scathach. If there are two things in this world that the Shadow hated most, they are traveling by leygates, and getting wet.

"Did I mention that I hate getting wet?!", exclaimed Scathach for the hundredth time, as they waded across the icy river.

"Yes! About a hundred times to be exact!", called back Joan.

By the time they finally reached the other side, their heavy winter clothing were water logged, and clung tightly to their skin. Water sloshed around in their boots.

"Ugh", exclaimed Scatty in disgust as she poured out a massive amount of foot-water from her boot. "What the...!"

As she did so, a fish flopped out and on to the ground. It was surprising to everybody. Joan was able to turn a hearty laugh into a slight cough. That fish soon became dinner!

Despite all the hardships and fatigues, however, Joan was still determined to get to Chinon, perhaps even more so. The only thing she regretted was not being able to attend church everyday while they were on the road. Her cheerful and upbeat attitude was encouraging to those who accompanied them.

After regaining their energy and drying out their clothes, they resumed their journey towards dark. They soon came to the enemy town of Pothieres, and decided to bypass it. The light of the moon above them was constantly changing, depending on the amount of clouds that pass by it. Suddenly, their ears perked up to the sound of barking dogs. The enemy is close at hand!

Scatty, as if by instinct, unsheathed her twin swords and declared, "No need to panic! I can take them!"

But Joan stopped her, gripping her arm. Their was deep concern in her eyes. "No, Scatty! We can't risk an encounter."

Scatty realized that Joan was right and reluctantly put her swords back in their places. "What should we do then?"

Joan frantically searched their surroundings. Then finally, she said, "Quick! Everybody get behind those trees!"

With no questions asked, the others did as Joan told them. Their hearts pounded wildly in their bodies as they traversed through the woods, hiding behind every single piece of fallen tree. The chase lasted throughout the entire night, keeping everyone on alert and awake at all times.

* * *

February 27, 1429

The next morning, they reached the Armancon River. (SO MANY RIVERS! Sorry Scatty) Finally losing the enemy off their trail, they set up camp hoping that the thick trees would help conceal them. It has been snowing for the last 24 hours. Not a blizzard mind you, but still harsh enough to make them miserable with its biting chill. They continued on in the evening.

In the early hours of February 28, the party caught sight of the great towers of the cathedral in Auxerre. Joan insisted on attending church there for the morning, so Jean and Scatty decided to accompany her. Meanwhile, the rest of the group rested in a secluded place.

Truth was, Jean wasn't so sure about going into Auxerre, which was controlled by the ruthless enemies. He could feel the hot bile rising from his stomach into his mouth. Entering a fortified town like this could probably trap them, with no chance of escape.

Scatty took note of Jean's anxiety and quickly reassured him, "Now there's no need to worry. We'll just slip in and then out. Simple."

"But...but the enemy will probably catch us", persisted Jean urgently.

Scatty let out a small giggle. "Oh, Jean. I can guarantee you that we'll escape if caught."

Even so, his heart pounded against his chest as they approached what he considered to be the lion's gaping jaws. Jean was also starting to become aware of the sweat forming under his cap and on his hands in their leather gloves. Strangely enough, it was only his unwavering trust in Scathach and Joan that he dared approached the guards at the gate.

_Thank God! _he thought to himself when they entered the town unharmed.

Then all three of them attended early morning Mass in the cathedral. They lingered in the back, as the service had already begun. Scatty, who wasn't quite as religious as Joan, only pretended to pray. Jean observed how devoutly Joan was in her prayers and began to question his own faith.

The trio soon rejoined the group, with Joan and Scatty feeling rejoiced with the experience. Jean only wished that he could say the same. Cowardice was a truly shameful thing for an honorable knight such as him. Very tired, they slept there for the rest of the day among the trees and vegetation. That night, they safely passed the enemy town of Mezilles. (Aren't you wondering how I know so many French places?) One more obstacle overcome!

Their joy was short lived, however, as they soon came upon the Loing River on the morning of March 1. "Great. More rivers", muttered Scathach grumpily.

They all stared with dismay at its freezing and swirling waters, before carefully plunging into the river. They were in the midst of it, when they heard the shouts of Burgundian soldiers echoing through the air.

"Move it! Move it! Surround them!"

They had fallen into an ambush! Six soldiers galloped out from the opposite bank of the river, while eight more rushed up behind them. This time, a battle was inevitable. Excited, Scatty unsheathed her twin swords and said to Joan, "Stay here! This will end quickly."

Joan noticed how her friend's face was...changing. Her eyes shone brighter and her features became sharper. Even so, Joan protested. "But Scatty! I can..."

Too late. Scatty was already charging upon the six soldiers. One of them poised a spear, and went to combat her. With a powerful blow of her sword, she easily broke the spear in two. Then she stabbed her attacker with her other sword, ending his life.

Recovering from the shock of it, Jean, Bertrand, and the others reacted quickly, by advancing on the eight to their rear. Joan looked on with impatience. "Humph. Why do they get all the fun?"

Meanwhile, two soldiers charged upon Scathach, swords raised. "Yahhhhh!"

Both swords held out from her sides, Scatty cut right through them, knocking them off their steeds. Swiftly, she brought her swords down upon their skulls, crushing them. She then quickly made mince meat of the remaining enemies.

Unbeknownst to them, there was a Burgundian assassin hiding among the trees. While the rest of them were busy fighting, the fiend took it as an opportunity to accomplish his dirty work. The assassin rushed towards Joan with his dagger drawn, in an attempt to slit her throat!

Luckily, Scatty was able to catch sight of him just in time. Horrified, Scathach called out, "Joan, look out!"

Joan's reflex kicked in and she drew her sword. Skillfully, she was able to block his fatal blow. Then with another blow, she knocked the dagger right out of his dirty hands, disarming him. The assassin was paralyzed with fear, before he was struck by a Burgundian arrow meant for Joan. He let out a cry of pain before abruptly falling into the river, where the fast moving current quickly carried his dead body out of sight.

Richard, after quickly scanning the situation, reacted in a split second. Swift and true, he let loose an arrow that pierced the assassin's accidental killer,before he could get off another shot. After finishing off the last of her lot, Scatty then moved to reinforce the others. They were too much for those cowards and the enemy retreated back into the woods from whence they came.

Extremely terrified and worried, both Scatty and Jean raced to Joan's side. "Joan! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Their eyes frantically searched her face and body.

Joan's face was flushed, but nothing serious. Her sword was held idly by her side. "I'm fine, thanks to Scatty's warning. Never mind me, but what about you?"

"Oh, just a few scratches, but I'll be fine", replied Jean.

Scatty couldn't say anything, but reached out and hugged Joan tight. "You had no idea how worried I was. I...I still can't believe he tried to kill you."

Joan pulled away and gazed deeply into her friend's eyes. "But if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive right now."

They turned to look at the rapid waters of the river. Scatty sighed and wiped the few tears from her eyes. "Yeah, you're right", she sniffled. "If he hadn't been in the way of that arrow, it might as well been YOUR dead body washed away."

They soon regrouped near the bank of the river to assess their losses. Luckily, nobody was killed in the fight, only minor injuries. After quick prayers and thanking God, the party decided to push on the extra miles to reach the halfway point of their journey, the good town of Gien. There, everyone happily attended Mass at the local church.

By that time, the sun was starting set, so they found a nice inn to stay at. Jean willingly paid the large price for a big, comfortable room with a roaring fire. As the men stayed and talk about some manly stuff by the fireplace, Joan and Scathach went to a private place to change out of their weather beaten clothes. It felt like forever since they had on some clean, dry clothes, soothing heat, and a hot meal in their stomachs! The soft pillows felt heavenly next to their weary heads, and they all fell fast asleep.

On the morning of March 2, they finally crossed the ancient stone bridge that spanned over the mighty Loire River (It's really beautiful there BTW) and into the Dauphin's territory. No more sneaking around and sleeping in the woods for them. Now, they can use the main roads and travel in daylight hours without fear of being caught. Their spirits soared and they were extremely grateful to be alive.

**Yeah...so that was it...for this chapter,not the story. It wouldn't make sense if I stop here. BTW The entire journey took 11 days. Yeah, the historical-ness of this is quite overwhelming. Heh heh...**

**And the ambush scene was just a little 'appetizer' until the real big battles. Trust me, it's going to be epic. **

**BTW I f you know how tp spell the name of the boy Scatty and Aoife fought over, then great and please PM me or add it in your review. LOVE you guys! **

**Again, sorry about the late update. I've just been busy with school and this new game I'm playing, Khan Wars. It's a Medieval multiplayer game. So I have to be responsible and protect my kingdom and stuff.**

**Man, I really think we've all been lazy lately. I know that some of you have writers block(a curse from Satan upon creative and brilliant literary minds), school( 8-hours-a-day Prison), homework(Ridiculous), and a bunch of other distractions. So may God bless you all in your struggle against these Evils that I've just named.**

**Sooooo...review. Thank you. :)**


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11! I just want to say that I really love your guys' reviews. It really makes me want to keep writing. But sometimes, it would be nice to read something YOU guys wrote. Lately, school has been a problem. It's getting in the way of our creativity. Not only do I don't have enough time to read and write, you guys don't have time to read and write. Sooo... Joan and Scatty Friendship Forever! There should really be more stories about their friendship, or should I say, sistership, since they're technically sisters. That's so cool! :D **

"How much further until we can reach Chinon?", asked Joan to Jean de Metz. They are standing in front of the church of the ancient village of St. Catherine de Fierbois. (BTW St. Catherine was one of Joan's voices)

"Colet said we should be there tomorrow", answered Jean from his place against the wall.

Joan thought while pacing and then asked, "Can you write?"

Jean stiffened and replied proudly, "Of course I do!"

"Show off!", scoffed Scatty, sitting on the dew covered grass.

"Well it's not my fault I received an education." He then returned his attention back to Joan.

"Then you wouldn't mind writing a letter for me?", she asked.

Jean grinned and nodded. "Sure."

Joan acknowledged her gratitude and went to join Scatty on the grass. The Warrior Maiden was laying down on the grass, staring up into the pale blue sky. She was deep in thought about things that will remain a mystery, when Joan of Arc sat down beside her.

"What are you doing?", asked Joan.

Scathach lifted herself up on her elbows and turned her head to look at her friend. "I was just looking at the clouds. There are some interesting shapes."

"I bet I can spot more than you", challenged Joan, a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, so we're feeling competitive today, eh?", smirked Scatty. "You're on!"

So Joan laid down and positioned herself next to her friend. Already, she has found something. "I see a butterfly!", Joan pointed out.

"Darn it! How did you find one so quickly?" Scatty's eyes searched the sky, until she spotted a shoe-shaped cloud. "There's one that looks like a shoe!"

"I found a...fish? Mermaid?", said Joan hesitantly, as she pointed to a cloud that look somewhat like a fish and something else.

Scatty squinted her eyes and concentrated hard. "I...think...it's a mermaid. Yep, a mermaid." She then rubbed her eyes, for the sunlight was making them teary.

Joan shook her head. "No it's definitely a whale!"

Scatty glanced critically at her. "Joan, I have lived in this world for far longer than you have. I think I know a mermaid when I see one."

"Whale."

"Mermaid."

"Whale."

"Mermaid."

"Whale!"

"Mermaid!"

They went back and forth like that for almost an hour, until it started to rain. Then they came to an agreement that it was neither a whale or mermaid, but is a...wait for it...MERWHALE! So they went to lodge at a local tavern, where after supper, Joan dictated a letter while Jean wrote it down. It read:

_Most gentle Dauphin, my name is Joan of Arc. I have traveled a hundred and fifty miles to come to your aid, which I do by command of my Lord, the King of Heaven. I know many things that will bring you much peace of mind. I beg audience with you so that I may accomplish God's will in France. As a sign of what I say is true, I will recognize you among all others, no matter how you disguise yourself. Written on Friday, the fourth day of March, at the village of St. Catherine de Fierbois. Signed Joan of Arc._

(That is the actual letter that Joan dictated. I've been studying her for years) Joan put a small cross by her name, as she does not know how to write. Though she would soon learn to write her name. Colet de Vienne was then sent ahead to deliver the letter.

"What did you mean by you will recognize him?", asked Scatty as she hung up her cloak.

Joan fluffed up the pillow on her bed. "My voices just told me that he will try to disguise himself. Out of fear, I think."

Scatty went to sit on her bed, which is across from Joan's bed. She then began to remove her boots. "Oh really?"

Joan settled herself into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Yeah...", she sighed. "It's been such a looong week."

Scatty nodded in agreement. "It has been one HECK of a week. Although, I had stranger ones."

They both laughed, but soon died out quickly. There was silence for a few seconds, with the snoring from the other room being the only sound. "Thanks, Scatty, for saving my life back there", said Joan somberly.

"Your welcome. I have no idea what I would do without you. You're my best friend", she added earnestly.

Joan turned her body to look at Scatty, a light smile on her lips. "You would've probably fly into an epic rage and give my killer absolute hell."

Scatty grinned mischievously. "Well I am the Shadow, after all." Scatty shook her head slowly. "I could never let anything happen to you...and neither would Jean", she added softly.

"What about Jean?"

"Um, nothing. It's nothing."

Joan shrugged and turned her body the other way. Then Joan yawned and closed her eyes. "I'm going to sleep now. Good night, Scatty." Almost immediately, her breathing settled into an easy rhythm.

Scatty yawned and eased her head down to the pillow. "Good night, Joan."

* * *

The sun was rising over the horizon, when the party finally reached Chinon, their long awaited destination. "The Dauphin's castle!", exclaimed Jean, pointing towards the magnificent white stone structure looming on top a rocky hill. The castle was a splendid sight, overlooking the beautiful Loire River, a little town nestled at its feet.

Joan's eyes widen and she was speechless. "Isn't it just beautiful Scatty?", asked Joan in awe, nudging her friend." I'm so glad we made it."

Scatty couldn't remember the last time she has seen a sight as fine as the castle of Chinon. It looked so majestic, with its white washed stones, and tall towers. Scathach couldn't help but be impressed. "Yes. Yes, it's so beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time."

Joan's excitement soon got the best of her. She tugged hard on her horse's reins, causing it rear back. "Come on, guys! Enough sight seeing!", and with those words, she promptly spurred her horse forward. They soon found lodging at the popular Bowmens Inn.

Their joy was cut short, for the Dauphin was hesitant in seeing Joan. George Tremouille and the Archbishop were against it, while his mother-in-law, Yolande, was all for it.

They were forced to spend two agonizing days waiting, while the Dauphin's agents came daily to question Jean and Bertrand. They asked trivial questions about Joan's moral character, her mission, her personality, and the details of their journey to Chinon. Meanwhile, Joan attended Mass with Scathach in the nearby church, praying to God for patience to endure these pointless inquiries and the delays they are causing.

One day, a group of Charles's royal bishops came, saying that he wanted Joan to tell them the message she wishes to give to him. Joan graciously refused, saying, "I'm really sorry, sirs, but God has entrusted me with a sacred message. He wills for it to fall on the Dauphin's ears alone."

Jean and Bertrand were frustrated. "Why did you that, Joan?", asked Jean inquiringly. "That could have been our chance to get the message across."

Joan answered simply, "Because, Jean, this message is only between me, the Dauphin, and God. I am the messenger, and it's my duty to deliver it to the Dauphin and him alone." Despite their anxiety, Jean and Bertrand couldn't help but respect that.

Seeing their distress, Joan reassured them by declaring, "Don't worry about it! The Dauphin shall hear me presently, for nothing can stop me from fulfilling my mission."

No doubt, Charles knew about the prophecy by the revered wizard, Merlin (People at that time really believed that Merlin came up with it!), that France shall be ruined by a woman, and saved by a maiden from Lorraine. How could he not? It was on everyone's mind, and upon every lip. Everyone knew who the 'woman' was, Charles's mother and the infamous, Queen Isabeau, who shamelessly handed France over to England. People began to speculate that Joan might be the maiden who would save France! Joan _is_ a maiden and she is _from_ Lorraine. Everything seems to fall in her favor. Joan took advantage of all the publicity by beginning to call herself, 'the Maid', or 'Virgin'.

"Joan of Arc, the Maid. It has a nice ring to it", said Scatty when she told her. Soon, everybody was calling her that, especially those who really believed.

Despite of all of this however, the Dauphin still had doubts, thanks to George la Tremoille and his partner in crime, the Archbishop of Rheims. But Yolande of Aragon was still fighting over with them, gaining little progress everyday.

* * *

Finally, after two days, they got a lucky break. Joan, Jean, and Bertrand were eating breakfast, when Scatty streamed into the dining room, a rolled up piece of paper clutched in her hands. She came up to them and exclaimed happily, "Good news guys! The Dauphin wants to see Joan."

"That's great!", exclaimed Bertrand and Jean.

"I told you guys not to worry", said Joan smiling. She then turned to Scatty, who was pulling out a chair to sit next to her. "When and where?"

"Ummm...", Scatty checked the message again. "Tonight at nine 'o clock sharp at his castle."

"Good, then we shall be there at nine", she then went back to eating her eggs.

Meanwhile, Scatty waved down the waitress and ordered two eggs, toast, and a mug of scotch. The rest of the day was pretty normal. Joan and Scatty took the news gratefully without losing their heads, whereas Jean and Bertrand couldn't eat or sleep, or do any rational thing as the appointed time moves ever so closer. That is, until they began to realize some new found difficulties that concerns Joan.

Both of them have been to the royal court before, and are familiar with all the processes and expectations. They were worried about how Joan would react to all the pomp and splendors and sophistication of it all. They feared that being a simple peasant girl, Joan would be overwhelmed by the royal court.

"Now, Bertrand, we must not over think this", reassured Jean. "After all, we were there when she first met Baudricourt."

Bertrand nodded in reluctant agreement. "Yes, yes, you're right. There's nothing to worry about."

"You want to go to the tavern and get a couple of drinks first?"

Bertrand sprang up from his seat. "To the tavern!"

So together they went, indeed, to the tavern for a few good'ol mugs of spirit raising wine.

* * *

Thus, the time came and they set off to the Dauphin's castle just as the sun was setting over the horizon. They traveled up the cobblestone streets, which were alive with riotous laughter and vulgar songs.

"Joan, look", said Scatty with a quick lift of her chin. As they passed an especially rowdy tavern, a drunken man suddenly came crashing out of the door, his face all bloody and swollen.

"Oh my", exclaimed Joan.

"That man definitely needs some help", remarked Scatty casually.

Amazingly, the man was able to shakily pull himself up. He appeared to be oblivious to everything, even pain, for he was so drunk. With a mug of beer held high in one hand, he barely made it on to the street. "Lets...celebrate Christmas...everybody!",said the drunk in a groggy voice, before falling hard against Jean's horse. The horse got spooked and pranced nervously as the man fell face down into the muddy street.

Joan was afraid that the poor man would drown in the mud, and motioned for Jean to help him. Jean and Bertrand obediently complied. Both of them dismounted and Jean washed the dirt and muck off of the man's face with some water from his canteen. Then they dragged his unconscious body to the side of the street, where they left him propped against a wall.

As they traveled up the steep hill of the chateau, they could see the outline of the great castle in the dim moon light. "Have you ever been in a castle, Scatty?", asked Joan, curious.

Scatty tilted her head. "I've been to a few, but none of them are in this world."

When they reached the top, they came upon a humble wooden bridge that went over the dry moat of the castle. As they crossed the bridge, they could see the castle's garrison of soldiers gathered. These ones were just as rough looking and scum-like as the ones back in Vaucouleurs. Scatty glanced around vigilantly and put her hand to her sword. She was prepared to lash out at anyone who came too close.

The soldiers glared at them as they passed by. Some held mugs of beer idly in their hands, while others looked up from gambling tables. Not a dice was rolled, nor a sound was made.

Suddenly, a mounted soldier came out of nowhere in front of them. His face was unshaven and strewn with hard stubble. His eyes were round and small, with a hint of crazy in them. A red, infected pimple sat right in the middle of his large forhead. Overall, his appearance was grotesque.

Ignoring Scathach's warning looks, the rude soldier guided his horse next to Joan and intently looked into her face, saying, "By the damned Godhead! So this is the little Maid is it?! Well she is pretty, even pretty enough for the likes of me!" He let out a loud, sadistic laugh, and was joined in by the rest of the crooked lot.

Scathach and Jean was enraged by his crude insult and just wanted to beat the damn living daylights out of him! Scatty drew her swords and got in between them, silencing the laughter.

"How dare you insult my friend like that, you jackass!", yelled Scatty, waving her sword defiantly in his ugly little face. "Apologize!" Her eyes were wide and blazing like a torch.

Their was a devilish smirk on the asshole's face when he replied," Oh, so you got a friend, eh? That's alright, I got a buddy that she can be with! He loves fiesty redheads!", then he resumed laughing again, a roaring symphony at his wake.

Scatty's scowl got even more intense and she was about to let all hell break loose, when Joan softly placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, Scatty. I'll handle this."

"But...but...", not wanting to make the situation even more worse, Scatty sighed deeply and said," Fine."

Putting away her swords, Scatty reluctantly backed out of the way, but still keeping an eye on the soldier. Joan was satisfied and swiftly turned her horse to confront the blubbering scum. "In God's name! How dare you blaspheme his name, especially when you are so close to death!"

That mutt of a soldier was immediately stunned at her prophetic words, and stopped his excessive laughter to silently glare at her. Without giving him time to answer, Joan quickly made her way across the bridge and into the courtyard.

"You're so lucky that I didn't chop off your head and toss it into the river!",exclaimed Scatty, who took the fine liberty of blowing a raspberry in the bonehead's face. "PFFFFFFTTTTTTTT."

When they arrived, three stable boys tended to their horses, while a servant led them through the entrance and up the steps to the great audience hall. Then they stopped in front of the impressively engraved oak door that leads into the hall.

"Please be patient and wait here", said the servant before going through the door and leaving them in the dark.

"You have got to be kidding me", said Scatty in an annoyed tone.

* * *

Meanwhile in the great hall...

The servant hastily made his way through the throngs of nobility gathered in the great hall. He soon reached Charles, who was seated on his throne. He was surrounded by Tremoille and the Archbishop of Rheims one one side, and his mother-in-law Yolande on the other. The servant bowed graciously, and then whispered something in the Dauphin's ears.

Suddenly, Charles found himself light-headed. "I can't do this!", he said abruptly, springing up from his seat.

"Why, Charles! What's the matter?", asked Yolande, extremely concern.

"I just don't feel right about this", he said, exasperated as he started to ascend the the few stairs from the platform holding up his throne.

Yolande gave a deep sigh before following after him. Grabbing his arm, she spun him back around. "She's our only chance, Charles. You can't just walk out on an opportunity like this!"

They were soon joined by Tremoille and the Archbishop. "We warned you, your Majesty! This girl is dangerous in every possible way!", said Tremoille, incredulously wagging a finger.

The Archbishop nodded in ready agreement. "Tremoille is right, your Highness. We don't know anything about her! Why, she could even be a witch, or an assassin! Perhaps, she's not even from Lorraine." He shrugged, an elegant roll of his shoulder.

Charles pulled out a square piece of cloth from his sleeve and began to wipe the perspiration forming on his large forehead. "Ah, you see? What if they're right? What if she is an assassin?"

"You've always been a good judge of character, Charles", persisted Yolande. "It would take you less than five minutes to expose her if she is a fraud...which I highly doubt it", she added quickly, turning to Tremoille and the Archbishop.

"By God, I should have never written to Baudricourt to send her! Now my life is in dire peril", moaned Charles. "Why is life so complicated? I swear that sometimes, I wish I was somebody else."

Yolande's expression suddenly lighted up. "That's not a bad idea!"

"It's not?"

"Yes, it's a brilliant idea!", she reassured him. "In her letter, she said that she could find you, no matter how good your disguise is, correct?"

"Yes..."

"Then why don't you test her!" Then gesturing to the mass of richly dressed nobles gathered, she said, "Have one of your courtiers to pose as you on the throne! If she falls for the ruse, then she's a fraud. Certainly if she was sent by God, then she would have no problem finding you among the crowd."

Charles casually rubbed his chin for a while in consideration. He glanced at Tremoille and the Archbishop, who shook their heads and disapproved. But to their demise, Charles replied," Alright. I'll do it."

He then picked a random man from the crowd and dragged him up to the throne. "Now, you're going to pretend to be me, alright? So act...like royalty. Can you handle it?"

The confused man meekly nodded in understanding. "Great! Then show me your best royal pose."

The man did as he was told and presumed a prominent, grim-like demeanor. Charles scanned him up and down critically. "No, no, it's all wrong!",exclaimed Charles, shaking his head. "Something's missing...ah, I got it!"

Charles reached for a golden scepter and placed it in the man's hand. Then he placed a heavy fur robe on his shoulders, and put a jewel encrusted necklace around his neck.

Charles then stepped back, satisfied. "Perfect!" He ordered for a nearby servant to go and fetch the waiting guests. "Everyone, take your places! We're going to...play a little game."

* * *

Back in the hall...

"Ughh! We've been waiting here forever!", moaned Scathach as leaned her head back against the wall.

"We've only been here ten minutes, Scatty", laughed Joan.

"You would think that for royalty, they could at least afford a proper guest room", scoffed Scatty bitterly. "Do they treat all their guests like this?"

Bertrand chuckled at her distress. "Not long, my friend. Just try to not let it bother you too much."

Joan, sensing Scatty's rage, gently placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Never mind this, Scatty. What's important is that I deliver my message to the Dauphin. The waiting will be over soon."

Joan's words and tranquility calmed Scatty, who smiled and squeezed her hand in return.

Finally, a different servant opened the door, and asked, "Is Joan, the Maid present?"

"Yes, I am here!", answered Joan.

"Please follow me! His Majesty, the Dauphin awaits you!", he exclaimed with a grand gesture of his arms.

So they walked through the door into what seems like a different world! The walls were lined with ranks of guards in shining steel armor and holding polished halberds.(A long wooden shaft with a spear/ax head. Great for cutting and poking!) They were standing as stiff as their halberds! A multitude of candles filled the room with an overwhelmingly sweet smell, causing some of their eyes to water a little bit. Dozens of torches lit the room, while a roaring fireplace provided the heat. All of the Dauphin's entire royal court of richly dressed lords and ladies were in attendance. At the other end of the hall, was a sceptered figure and blazing with jewels, sitting on a canopied throne.

These colorful butterflies were chatting among themselves, that is until they saw Joan coming out of the door. When they were a good ten feet from the throne, the servant announced,"I present to you, Joan the Maid!" Then with a quiet obeisance, went to join the multitude.

Jean and Bertrand was right. Joan was put off for a good minute at all the splendors and riches of the court, and the sight of the colorful nobility. After her name was announced, she slowly made her way up towards the jeweled figure on the throne. She stood motionless, not even a slight inclination of her head.

The eyes of all the courtiers were fixed on Joan in a gaze of awe. Their expressions shows that they have forgotten themselves and everything around them, and were completely oblivious to everything except the one person they are gazing upon. They had the look of people who are under an enchanting spell.

Pretty soon, the spell wore off and they began to come alive again. Little by little, they all shook off that clinging drowsy feeling. Now, they look at Joan with a strong new interest of another type; they were curious at what she would do...for there was a particular reason behind their curiosity. So they watched her, as she stood there not moving, but only staring at at the figure on the throne.

Scathach and Jean were silently looking upon the scene, when they noticed how sweaty and pale Bertrand's face was. "What is it? What's wrong?",they both whispered urgently.

"The infidels!",answered Bertrand gruffly. "They have taken advantage of the hint in her letter by playing a trick on her! That is NOT the Dauphin who sits there. If she is fooled, they will laugh at her, and most scornfully."

Scatty was outraged. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised at this since they keep their guests in the dark!",she exclaimed under her breath.

Jean sadly shook his head and said, "Ah, poor Joan! Truly, it is a pity to use her so."

Their pity soon turned into amazement, when Joan suddenly turned away from the throne and walked erect, and stately in a slow gait towards a group of gathered courtiers. She went through them as easily as gliding through a wheat field. There, in the middle of that sea of humanity, was the object of her long and arduous journey.

Joan then knelt before him and tenderly embraced his ankles. Then her face lit up joyously as she looked up at him and said, "May God grant you long life, my gentle Dauphin!"

At that, all the courtiers let out a gasp of astonishment. "By God, it is a miracle!", exclaimed Bertrand happily.

"How is that possible?", wondered Scatty in awe. Then the answer dawned on her. "Her voices...of course."

Charles, as dumbfounded as any of the others, remained utterly speechless for a while. He just glared at her before saying,"Ah, you have been mistaken,my child! I am not the Dauphin. He is the Dauphin!" He then pointed to the throne. (Hey, it was worth a try for him)

Joan did not budge and was surprised at his comment. With her happy face still lifted up to him, she exclaimed, "No! It is you and none other!"

As she did, the whole court broke into a boisterous din. The young monarch's amused expression then faded away and he became grave and thoughtful. His head then tilted in a quizzical angle. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Joan's eyes sparkled as she answered, "Your most gracious Majesty, my name is Joan the Maid. I have traveled a hundred and fifty miles to see you, and now I can finally deliver my message to you from the King of Heaven!" She then glanced around at the people around them, before returning her gaze back on him. "Although, I would much prefer to properly tell it to you in private. This message is for you alone."

"Well, you have proven yourself by successfully finding me", considered Charles. "So..."

With a quick wave of his hand, he signaled for the two of them to be left alone. All of the courtiers and nobles moved to the other end of the hall, with Scatty, Jean, and Bertrand following them. They found a quiet spot for themselves where they can easily see the two. They saw Charles bidding Joan to rise up and together, they both headed towards a door near the fireplace. Charles opened the door and held it open as Joan went through it, before closing the door behind him.

The three of them just looked at each other, puzzled.

* * *

In a private chamber, Charles bid Joan to sit down before doing the same. They are now away from prying eyes and listening ears. The warmth of the nearby fireplace provided soothing warmth.

Charles relaxed and clasped his hands together in front of him. "Now, we are alone. What is the message that God have for me?"

Joan got comfortable and said, "I will gladly tell it to you, my Dauphin. But before I do, I wish to recall to you a prayer." Her voice was soft and serene, but her conviction was absolute."

Charles leaned closer and nodded for her to continue.

Joan took a deep breath before saying, "Remember that prayer that you made to God on that stormy night?"

Charles was awestruck. "No! It can't be!" In his state of shock, he gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

"Calm down, my Dauphin", consoled Joan. "I understand that you need a minute to recover."

Joan allowed Charles a few minutes to regain his composure. Once he did, he asked softly, "How do you know? That prayer was between me and God exclusively."

Joan looked at him with her clear blue eyes. "I know, because He told me. In that prayer, you asked God to give you a sign of your legitimacy and right to the throne."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with the message?"

"My Dauphin, the message that God have entrusted me with, is that you are the son of your father and true heir of the crown of France."

Charles instantly leaned forward. "I...I...I am? I'm the true king?" His voice was cracked and dry. "But I'm not even crowned yet. That English took control of Rheims."

Joan nods. "Yes you are. As for the English..." Joan lowered her gaze for a second, then brought it up again. "Have no fear of the English, for God have also sent me to save France from them. I will defeat them, and then lead you to Rheims to claim you rightful crown, as your great forefathers before you have done."

Gently, she took his hand in hers. "All you have do, is place your trust in me." Their eyes met, sparkling blue to pale gray.

Charles was overwhelmed with emotion as brimming tears ran down his cheeks. At this point, he seems utterly defenseless, like the little hurt boy that he was.

Slowly, Charles releases the breathe that he's been holding. He was able to stammer, "I trust you, Joan...I really do. While I envy your certainty, how could I possibly have the right to call myself King when I don't...even know who my real father was? Even my unloving mother didn't remember. I need to know. I...just need to know."

Joan gaze at his tear stained face for a moment, before suddenly placing both hands on his shoulders. Her silver aura flared and her eyes became silver disks. Then there were flashes, a series of too perfect images of the future.

_A ceremonial church bell rings joyously..._

_The French royal banner flies triumphantly in the wind..._

_Defeated English captains throwing down their weapons and kneeling in submission before Charles..._

_Huge city gates flung open, releasing a happy and jubilant crowd who welcomes Charles..._

_Charles, dressed in ceremonial clothing, kneels in Rheims Cathedral..._

_Gloved hands solemnly placed the crown of France on his head..._

Another quick flash and they are thrust back into reality. The light, sweet scent of lavender lingered in the atmosphere of the chamber. Joan shook her head and found herself holding Charles's head, as though she had just crowned him.

For Charles, the fantasy has become reality. "Whoa."

Joan removed her hands from his head and placed them sternly on his shoulder. "Do you really believe that God would let all this happen...if you were not the true King of France?"

**Wow! This has got to be the best chapter I've written so far!**

**Forget the tomatoes, you'll need grenades! As for the foul-mouthed jackass...let's just say, he'll have a little 'accident' later. ;)**

**BTW Most of the details of the chapter is real, and the others were made up. But they were pretty good right? This chapter was partly inspired by the movie: The Messenger, the Story of Joan of Arc directed by Luc Besson. Might be hard to believe, but Charles really did have someone to pose as him on the throne! But nevertheless, Joan immediately picked him out. That's what I like to call: Divine Inspiration.**

**Yeah, I had to do some research while writing this. It's like...my own twisted version of history. ;)**

**I've never actually seen the movie, but I've read the entire original movie script. It was amazing! **

** YAY! FALL BREAK! I feel so energetic and there is a new rush of inspiration in my mind! **

**So don't forget to review! Peace! **


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12! MAN, I'M SO PUMPED FOR THUS CHAPTER! It took you guys quite a while to review the last one. My inbox had never been so emp-ty...oh, well! So I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, because I won't update it for some time now. I've been getting random ideas popping into my head! Oh, and a new character will be introduced. So heads up!**

Shortly after their fateful meeting, Charles announced that he has full faith in Joan. So he moved Joan, Scatty, Jean and Bertrand into his castle at the Coudray Tower, close to his own private chambers. This was seen as special treatment in the eyes of Charles's courtiers and nobles. Everyone was surprised at how light-hearted and radiant Charles have become, which for him was a big change! When Joan told the Dauphin her message, all his doubts vanished and he came to believe in her. If only he was let alone, he would have willingly set her off on her great mission at once.

But...alas, was not meant to be. That treacherous Tremoille and the Archbishop of Rheims knew their man. They knew just exactly what to say; and they said it:

"Your Majesty states that this girl, have revealed to you, a peculiar secret message from the Lord, God. However, there is still the possibility that Satan, not God, is talking to her-for does not Satan also holds the knowledge of men's secrets? Could it be that Satan was deceiving you, and she was his mouthpiece? This is very dangerous business, your Majesty, and we highly advise for you to not act, until you have fully examined the matter!"

There, that was enough. It shriveled up the Dauphin's little soul like a raisin. Why, he has never thought about it that way before. Could all of those fantastic images turn out to only be false hallucinations, designed to deceive and fool him? What is certain, is the fact that Charles began to develop new doubts and with his advisors, began to create even more delays.

The next day, Charles summoned them to his private chambers. On their way up, they had the fine pleasure of witnessing the dead body of a man being pulled out of the river. Ironically, it was the now lifeless body of that ruffian soldier who had so grossly insulted Joan and Scatty. They soon learned that his name was, not surprisingly, 'foul-mouthed' Frank. Method of death?

"Frank got so damned drunk last night, that he decided to go for a swim", said one of his comrades. "We tried to stop him, but he just jumped right off the bridge and into the water! He was drowned before we could do anything about it."

Scatty, of course, felt a relief of justice. "Ha! Got what he deserved was he got! How I would have loved to drown him myself!"

"I did my duty in warning him", remarked Joan grimly.

Bertrand and Jean just stood there and high-five each other. The whole town was buzzing about it so much, that even the Dauphin became aware of it! This would later prove to be one of many events that Joan will correctly predict during her brief career.

At their approach, the two guards who stood on either side of the grand double doors sprang to attention, and swiftly opened for them to enter. Once they were inside, they could see that the Dauphin was privately talking with some of his advisors. Joan politely coughed to get his attention.

Charles soon turned around to greet them. "Ah, Joan, my beloved servant! I see that you have brought your friends."

Without any hesitation, the Dauphin graciously shook their hands. "Ah, Jean de Metz and Bertrand Poulegny. Fine knights, very fine indeed! I am fully sure that you shall serve us well."

Jean and Bertrand were extremely honored by his compliments. Their postures straightened and they felt prouder. "You are too kind, my Dauphin. I shall gladly serve you with my life", declared Jean.

"And I second that", chimed in Bertrand, not willing to be outdone. Charles was pleased and silently nodded.

He was surprised when he finally got to Scathach. "Well, I'm afraid that I don't know who you are. Joan?" Charles gave Joan a questioning look.

Joan happily introduced Scatty to Charles. "Your Majesty, I'm proud to present to you, Scathach. She is a very good friend of mine."

"Hello, Dauphin, very nice to meet you", said Scathach, a tight smile on her lips. She then extended her hand to him.

"The pleasure is all mine!", replied Charles, gladly shaking her hand. "But might I ask, you're not from here are you?"

_Wow. You do sweat a lot don't you?, _thought Scatty when she became aware of the wetness of his palms. She then gently released his hand and answered, "No, sir, I'm from the proud land of Scotland!"

Charles was intrigued. "Ah yes, Scotland! What would we do without their constant support." He then gestured for her to lean in. "You know, I've always wanted to visit Scotland, but this war is keeping me occupied!"

He then, smiling warmly, extended his arms out to all of them, and exclaimed, "Well, my friends, I am very eager to set you to off to Orleans...as soon as the University of Poitiers finishes examining Joan."

Joan frowned and anxiously asked him, "Examine? When will that be, my gentle Dauphin?"

The Dauphin winced at her brash interruption, but it soon passed and he gently replied, "Soon, Joan, so you must be patient. Now, come join me! Some of my nobles will be practicing with the lance in the fields. We would like for you all to accompany us and watch the sport."

Joan let out a deep sigh, before saying in a cheery tone, "Of course, my Dauphin. We would love to join you."

The Dauphin smiled in great pleasure and began to lead the way to the practice fields.

* * *

The afternoon sky is clear and blue. It is a mighty good day for practicing to wield the lance, for there was little or no wind to interfere with its balance. The target was a wooden knight, secured on a pole in a way to allow its full rotation. Close to the center is a shield and in the knight's right 'hand' held a heavy club. Young boys who wish to become knights must practice using these kind of targets to enhance their riding skills and accuracy.

The object is to hit the target straight in the center, or else it will rotate around quickly and hit them with the club. This method seems extremely painful, but it does help to speed up the learning process!

The Dauphin and his grand company laughed as they watched the young squires' awkward handling of the lance, and howled when they fell off their horses. The poor youths had not been properly trained and for most of them, this is their first time. Some of them fell, because they were unable to balance the lance while controlling their horse's movements. At the end, they are all very embarrassed to do so poorly in front of the Dauphin and all of his nobles.

Scathach could not help herself, but burst out laughing, for her sympathy for them was not great enough to contain it.

"Oh, how I remember when that was us", recalled Jean wistfully.

"Indeed, my friend", replied Bertrand dreamily. "Now look at us! We are knights, proud warriors."

"All that practice and bruises paid off", agreed Jean with his friend. "It's going to taking many more years for these amateurs to realize it for themselves."

After the squires are finished, the nobles began to take their turns, and proudly showed off their prowess with the lance. For every hit, a cheer went up; if it's a miss, a loud groan rose from the crowd. It would have damaged anyone's ego.

They also got a surprise visit from the esteemed Duke of Alencon, who is Charles's royal cousin. This young and strikingly handsome nobleman came over to Charles, gracefully bowed and doffed his plumed cap to him. The Dauphin bid him to rise and asked, "Alencon, my dear cousin! What is the reason for your unexpected visit to our fair castle?"

The Duke stroke is neatly trimmed beard as he recalled, "Well, I was out hunting quails on my estate, when one of my messengers informed me that you have a girl in your presence. She said that she is sent by God to defeat the English and raise the siege at Orleans, is that not so? That is why I came here today, to see this wonder for myself."

Joan and Scatty soon caught sight of the richly dressed nobleman, and was deeply interested. "My Dauphin, who is this man?", asked Joan.

Charles almost laughed out loud at Joan's eager question. "Joan, meet my noble cousin, the Duke of Alencon." Then pointing towards Joan, he said, "And this, my cousin, is Joan the Maid!"

Joan gracefully stepped forward, then their eyes met and locked. One can easily tell that those two took an instant liking to each other. You see, the Duke was enchanted by the same mysterious power that affects all whom Joan comes in contact with. Maybe having a pure silver aura might have something to do with it. As they shook hands, Joan smiled and said, "You are welcome here, noble Duke. The more that we can gather of the royal blood of France, the better for our cause."

The Duke replied gratefully, "Thank you, I am extremely flattered. I also find you quite charming already." The Duke looked over her shoulder and noticed Scatty just standing there. "Excuse me, but who is your red-headed friend there?"

Joan motioned for Scatty to come over, who sighed in relief. "Scatty, this is the Duke of Alencon, the Dauphin's cousin." She then turned to look at the Duke. "Duke of Alencon, this my friend, Scatty. She's from Scotland." Joan added quickly, seeing the question that was forming on his lips.

The Duke gave a little bow in courtesy, before taking her hand and gently kissing the back of it. "Well, that is absolutely fascinating! I also have some colleagues from Scotland, but none of them are exotically beautiful as Scatty here." He spoke precisely in a clear and low voice.

Scatty couldn't help but blush crimson. She has never allowed anyone to kiss her hand, but the Duke was just too charming and charismatic. Scatty looked to Joan, who only gave her a look that said, "Just go with it." It took a while before Scatty could respond. "So you are the Dauphin's cousin? I don't see the resemblance."

The Duke chuckled softly. "Yes, I'm quite aware of that myself. I actually...uh...get that a lot."

Then Charles, visibly amused, joined in the conversation. "Ah, I see that you three have hit off quite well!", he exclaimed delightfully, clasping his hands together.

Joan, Scatty, and the Duke nodded and smiled in acknowledgement. Meeting such a fine nobleman filled Joan with much joy. After politely excusing herself, she hurried to a nearby horse and effortlessly climbed into the saddle. At breakneck speed, she swooped down to grab a fifteen-foot long lance from the weapons rack

"Is she doing what I think she's doing?", wondered Scatty aloud in an awed tone.

The Duke's face was glowing with excitement. "I've never seen such masterful audacity! Such skill and control!"

Joan expertly charged her steed towards the target at full speed. Every eye was fixed on Joan as they breathlessly watched her approach the elusive target. In an instant, the sharp crack of a lance was hear. A direct hit! The whole crowd went totally wild as it broke into waves of cheers and applause, and even by the time Joan came back, it still had not ceased!

Jean, Bertrand, and Scatty hastily rushed to her side. "Joan, you are amazing! Absolutely incredible!", exclaimed Jean zealously.

"It took us years to perfect the coordinated use of lance and horse! How was it possible that you were able to learn so quickly?", asked Bertrand in anxious curiosity.

Still upon the horse, Joan laughed at their eager questions. "While waiting for Baudricourt to send me to Chinon, I spent some time watching the soldiers practice. I learned it from there. Also, you got to admit, that riding for eleven long days through rough territory would improve anyone's horsemanship." Joan shrugged and added, "But mostly, it just came to me naturally."

They could not help but grin happily for the sake of the occasion. Scatty then helped Joan to dismount, and in her immense joy, gave Joan an enthusiastic hug. "You were great out there, Joan! I'm so proud of you! I knew you were special from the first time I laid eyes on you."

The Duke was so impressed by her, that he promptly sent for his own favorite horse to be brought. It was a majestic creature, milky white with a flowing mane, and massive finely defined muscles. With great admiration, the Duke happily presented it to her as a gift. "Joan, you may now have the liberty of naming him. What should it be?"

Joan was much pleased with his gift and after thinking hard and long, finally said, "My Duke, I shall name him Crusader, and we shall ride together into every battle."

The Duke, being the gentleman that he was, then helped her up onto the saddle. They have only met moments ago, yet, they interacted like life long friends. Joan sat majestically upon her magnificent new gift. On it's own part, the horse seemed to stand a little taller, a little prouder, as if it somehow knew that he now belongs to the Maid. The Duke then sent for another horse, and to the seemingly never ending cheering of the crowd, the Duke and Joan joyously left for their afternoon ride together.

* * *

Poitiers, France

For the next few weeks to come, they shall be at Poitiers, where a religious council was assembled to examine Joan. The council, which was made up of educated priests and scholars, had two specific purposes: First, is to determine if her motives are truly of God, or the Devil. Second, if she is of God, is for the Church to grant approval of her mission. Who's in charge of it? None other than the Archbishop of Rheims.

Once they arrived, the commission gave Joan no time to rest, but instead immediately summoned her to appear before him. "God, give me the strength to endure these delays!", she would pray constantly. So for the sake of time and energy, I shall not go over the proceedings in detail.

Finally, after three weeks of questionings and occasional passionate outbursts from Joan herself, the day came for the council to render its official verdict. Joan, Scathach, and their loyal knights, Jean and Bertrand waited in the council's antechamber room for their verdict.

Joan, eager to get things done, spent the time in silent pacing. Jean and Bertrand were more tranquil, and partook in the wine offered for them. "Be patient, Joan. It will soon be over, I'm sure", said Jean in an attempt to ease her.

"How can you possibly sit there and tell me to be patient, Jean?" Irritation could be heard in her tone." I've wasted three weeks here, answering their pointless questions!"

"But it's the only way to get the approval you need!", persisted Jean. "Without it, you wouldn't be able to do anything at all."

Joan impatiently looked heavenward. "Well, God already has given me all the approval I need!"

Bertrand got got up and made a move towards the window, where Scatty is silently listening. "They want to be sure of your credentials, Joan. That is why they are taking all this time to question you. You must admit that what you propose to do, is a very serious matter."

Joan flashed him a look. "I know that, Bertrand, because they asked me to give them a sign. And do you know what I told them?"

Bertrand shook his head. "No, I don't. What did you tell them?"

A fire was lit in Joan's eyes as she exclaimed, "I told them that I have not come to Poitiers to make signs, but that I want the Dauphin to give me soldiers and send me to Orleans! For there, I shall give them a sign by raising the English siege!"

Scatty laughed as she remembered, "And don't forget the time when you told them that you believe in God more than them."

Jean nearly spouted out his wine. "What?"

"Or when you told that one man that your voices spoke better French than he did!"

"Did you really said all that Joan?", asked Bertrand, both shocked and amused.

Joan crossed her arms defensively. "Well...he did have a thick, unfamiliar accent. I just...you know.

A little wine would help to calm the nerves, so Jean handed Joan a small glass. "Come sit and take a load off, Joan", he insisted. Joan lightened up and smiled.

Scatty and Bertrand also took their seats to join them. Jean handed them both goblets of wine, before filling his own up to the very brim. With great bravado, they toasted each other. "To good friends!", they cheered. "What would we do without them!"

Joan added, "May God bless them!"

Together they laughed, "Amen to us all!"

A hard knock at the door interrupted and brought them back to the present moment. A young and smartly dressed page boy entered to inform them. "The council sits to render its final decision. Please follow me."

Joan heaved a deep sigh of relief. "Finally, the waiting is over."

* * *

Large crowds of people filled the grand courtroom and even overflowed into the street. There was a great deal in incessant talking, and the constant rattling of legal papers. The panel of judges and scholars quietly awaited their entry. The Archbishop of Rheims, as the head of this council, sat upon a high-backed, richly engraved chair on a high platform. The others sat on low-back chairs.

Joan, Scatty, and the two knights followed the page boy into the room. Scatty, Jean, and Bertrand went to the side of the room with all the other onlookers, who have ceased all conversations to wait in anticipation for the verdict. Joan went up to the front and stopped just shortly in front of the Archbishop, and stood there unflinchingly. Complete silence enveloped the room.

The Archbishop glared along the crowd with his emotionless gray eyes, as the judge to his right placed a scroll into hus waiting hand. Then in a clear and sincere voice, he began to read:

_"I, by the grace of God, the Archbishop of Rheims, and head of this ecclesiastical council, with the help of the other judges assembled here, have reached an offficial decision on the case of Joan, called the Maid, which was brought to us by our Sovereign Lord, the Dauphin Charles. It is found and hereby declared, that Joan of Arc, called the Maid, is a good Christian and Catholic, for we have found nothing evil in her, but only goodness, humility, devotion, and simplicity. As for her sign, she replied that she would show at Orleans and no other. Also, seeing the extreme difficulty of the situation of the city of Orleans, we believe that Charles should no longer prevent her from going there with troops, but send her right away with full trust in God. For to fear and reject her without cause, would be to show himself unworthy of the Lord's divine aid. So saying, this council hereby delivers its blessing upon the heavenly mission, which the Lord God, had bestowed upon Joan the Maid. In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen!"_

A loud cheer went up from the crowd that resounded throughput the room. The Arcbishop held up his hand for silence and proclaimed, " And now, without further ado, is the Dauphin's Royal Herald with an important proclamation."

To the sterling notes of trumpets, the Royal Herald calmly went and took his place before the spectators, who gave him their undivided attention. Taking a deep breathe, he then delivered his message:

"Hear ye, hear ye! Know all men and take heed therefore, that the most high, the most illustrious Dauphin Charles by God's grace, sovereign ruler of France, have been pleased to grant upon his well beloved servant, Joan of Arc, called the Maid, the title, authorities, and dignity of General-in-Chief of the Armies of France!"

Here, a thousand caps flew into the air! What a grand and goodly cheer went up from the crowd! They rushed upon Joan like a tidal wave, and engulfed her in their joyous frenzies of congratulations. Joan of Arc, General-in-Chief of the Armies of France! Oh, what a great honor it is!

They even followed after her right out the door! As for Scatty and the two knights, they were hardly able to move at all, for they are pinned against the wall by the heavy masses of people! Eventually, the crowd thinned enough for them to get out, where they soon found Joan at the end of a street, waiting for them. They wasted no time in reaching her.

"Joan, you did it! You won!",called Jean bashfully.

Scatty gave her a great bear hug, almost ligting her off the ground. "General-in-Chief! That's my girl!"

"You did it, Joan!", exclaimed Bertrand.

Joan shook her head and looking skyward, she said, "No, all the thanks belongs to God. Now, I am free to accomplish His will." Slowly, she extended her arms out to them, a winning smile on her petite face. Looking at every one of them, she adds," And I never could have done it without you guys, my three friends. Thank you for all that you have done for me."

Scatty, Jean, and Bertrand are visibly touched by her words. One by one, they each came together in a hug of friendship. For them, a whole new adventure is just about to begin. The fate of the Kingdom of France is now irrevocably placed in Joan's young, yet capable hands.

**Aww, what sweet moment.**

**OK now everyone take out your glasses, or a cup, or anything else you drink out of. It can be empty or filled with any type of liquid, except for urine, wine, beer, liquor, or booze, because I'm assuming that we're all too young for that, and could get in trouble.**

**Alright, so raise them high and let us give some toasts!**

**Cheers! To all of you awesome people who actually reads and review my story! **

**Cheers! To us all, proud fans of SotINF Series!**

**Cheers! To Michael Scott, the genius and mastermind behind SotINF! If only the movie would come out soon!**

**Cheers! To Joan, France's new General-in-Chief! Get out there and whoop some bleeding English asses!**

**Cheers! To our favorite vegetarian, red-headed vampire Scathach! You go girl!**

**Ha! That asshole drowned in the river! Shows how much brains he has. So words of advise: If Joan tells you you're going to die, then you're REALLY in trouble. Some ugly guy pissed her off and paid for it with his life. True story! But don't worry, that won't happen to you guys...I hope.**

** So that's all for now. Take care! Get plenty of sleep! Brush and floss your teeth! Don't forget to review! You guys are so awesome! ;D**


	14. Chapter 13

**So...last chapter was pretty fun. I loved your reviews! Cheers! I'm just going to start the chapter now. **

Tours, France

Soon after, the Dauphin sent them to the bustling city of Tours, where they shall stay for the first week of April. Tours is famous for its vast amount of armorers and the quality of their craftsmanship. Here Joan, is to receive her own custom-made suit, and furnished with her own personal staff, as befitting any commander. Besides Scathach, Jean, and Bertrand, six others joined her entourage.

Joan was given the great honor of having two heralds(People usually only had one) who also served as messengers. Their names are Ambleville and Guyenne(No kidding. Those were their actual names). Louis and Raymond, as inseparable as they are loyal, are only fourteen years old and were assigned to Joan as pages. Jean d' Aulon received the post of Chief Squire, and is in charge of her personal staff and financial expenses. He himself, is financially poor, but had the rich reputation of being a most valiant and honest man. He faithfully lived up to it while in service. Also added to her retinue, is a monk of the Augustinian order, named Father Jean. He was a saintly man and very kind.

Luckily, Scatty got along well with all of them, for Joan's sake. Joan was thrilled when her two brothers came, along with her parent's blessings, which caused great joy to well up in her heart. She warmly embraced them.

Pierre is a tall twenty-two year old. He looked a lot like his sister, also having brown hair and blue eyes. His body is also muscular from all those years of hard farm work. Jean and Bertrand liked him and he proved to be a very friendly and helpful young man.

John is the younger brother, about twenty years old. He have dirty blond hair and hazel eyes, with some tinted green mixed in them. Now, he was sort of a delinquent, and is quite mischievous. However, John would always try to make up for his actions. Other than that, he is a fine enough fellow and Joan loved him with all her heart.

John and Pierre were extremely grateful towards Scatty for being there with Joan. The last time they saw her, she was stuffing mud down John's pants, because he hid her swords from her.

"Ah, good times! No hard feelings?",asked John.

"No hard feelings", replied Scatty, heartily shaking his hand.

After her brothers were done eating and settling down, Joan asked if they would like to join her personal staff. They were overjoyed at the opportunity of staying close to their younger sister and readily agreed.

* * *

April 2, 1429

After morning Mass by Father Jean, Scatty accompanied Joan to the armory of Monsieur Andre du Lac. He is the foremost best armorer in all of France, and Charles have assigned him the task creating a suit of custom-made armor for Joan.

"Why can't I just shape my aura into armor?", asked Joan, as the two walk along a busy street. Joan held up her hand in front of her with fingers spread. Silver sparks crackled to life, then slowly shaped and solidified into a full metal gauntlet. "See?"

Scatty glanced sidelong at her. "Because if you use your aura too much, bad things will happen. Very bad things." She turned that statement into a promise.

The gauntlet dissolved as quickly as it was conjured. Joan's brows furrowed slightly in bewilderment. "What kind of bad things?"

Scatty shrugged. "Possibly spontaneous combustion can happen."

"Spontaneous com- what?"

Scatty smirked. "Spontaneous combustion; it basically means that your body could randomly catch on fire. It usually happens with people who overuse their aura, or are too weak."

Joan shook her head incredulously. "So what you're saying, is that I'm in danger of catching on fire for no reason. Why are you just telling me this now?", she asked urgently.

"I thought you were too young to handle it. I was afraid it might freak you out."

Joan raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "And what makes you think that it won't freak me out now?" Then linking her arm with Scatty's, she said in a more cheery tone, "Well, if it ever does happen, I want it to be during a major battle. If I'm going down, it's going to in one last great blazing glory!"

"I have no doubt of that Joan. No doubts at all."

Monsieur Andre first have to measure Joan from head to foot. He was so meticulous, that it took several hours, but Joan didn't seem to mind it. Monsieur Andre was quite flabergasted and hesitant, for he had never made a suit of armor for a young girl before. "That Dauphin, Charles is going to receive one heck of a bill", they heard him say on their way out.

As they were heading back to headquarters, Joan suddenly stopped in front of a banner shop.

"I'm hungry. Is there a place with a vegetarian menu-" Scatty noticed that Joan is not next to her. "-Joan? Why did you stop?"

Joan did not look at Scatty when she replied, "I almost forgot! My voices have told me to, 'Take up the Banner of your Lord'."Joan then grabbed Scatty's arm and pulled her along. "Come on, Scatty! I want to see what's available inside."

"Oh, great! More shopping!", groaned Scatty sarcastically. "Yay."

"Oh, lighten up will you?"

* * *

The shop turns out to be owned by a Scot named Hamish Power. Joan and Scatty entered the shop and inside, were examples of his magnificant works hanging all around on the walls. The interior was alive with dozens of red, blue, green, purple, and yellow pennons, banners, and flags all bearing beautiful designs. It seems clear that Monsieur Power is a man with the most keen sense of design and color!

"Now THIS is what I call genuine craftsmanship, right here", exclaimed Scatty. "This guy knows what he's doing." Scatty repeated that to Monieur Power in his native Scottish language, and his response was a nod of gratitude.

Joan stood amazed for a moment, marveling at the impressive details of his work. She walked around the shop for a few moments, before going over to a table and picked up a piece of white cloth that just happened to be there. Joan gestured for Monsieur Power to come over as she traced out her desired design.

"Monsieur, I would like a large white banner, please. On the front, I want the Lord God seated on a arching rainbow. In His left hand he should hold the world, while His right hand is held high in blessing. There will be two angels kneeling on both sides of Him, one carrying a fleur-de-lys(golden lily flower) and the other a sword. Close to the picture, I want the Holy names of Jesus and Mary depicted bodly on gold. The rest of it will be covered in little gold fleur-de-lys."

As she paused, Monsiuer Power wrote down every detail on a piece of paper. Flipping the cloth over, Joan continued. "On the back side, I want a silver dove on a blue shield. In its beak should be a streamer with the words, 'Through the King of Heaven', written on it. I would like a golden crown painted on top of the shield, and their should be two angels, one on each side of the shield who are supporting it. Also, please border the whole banner with white and gold silk fringes."

They waited for Monsieur Power to get everything down. Finally ha said, "I understand your design perfectly, Maid! Who should I send the bill to?"

Joan flashed him a broad smile. "Send it to the Dauphin's royal treasurer."

The Scot hastily made his calculations on the spot, then said, "This task will be easy for me, Maid. It will take me about four days to complete, if that's acceptable to you?"

"Yes indeed, Monsieur. I just know that it will turn out beautifully. Thank you."

* * *

Ah, yes! Everything is bustling and humming here at Tours. Every now and then, one can hear the crisp sound military music, the footsteps of ranks of soldiers marching towards the army camp at Blois, and the cheering and celebration of the people over their new-found hope. Of course, fame comes with a price. The town is overflowing with visiting people from nearby districts, all coming to get sight of the new girl General. They would always crowd around the her private headquarters, hoping to get a glimpse of her, and when they got it, went wild with joy. Scatty was always near Joan, protecting her from their overenthusiastic advances. They could barely make their way through the streets at all, in that engulfing sea of humanity!

However, Joan rarely showed herself to the public, for she is very busy with planning her campaign. Her days at Tours were occupied with recieving reports, giving orders, dispatching messengers, and answering any of her brothers' urgent questions. All those days, everyone carried a glad and cheerful face.

The Duke of Alencon invited them to join him at his castle in Saint-Florentin-les-Saumur. They left Tours early in the morning and sailed comfortably down the Loire River on a wooden barge(A kind of large sailboat). The warm sun shone brightly as brisk river breeze propelled then steadily along. The groans and creaks of the gently rocking craft seneraded. All around them, the signs of Spring were everywhere. Little blue birds sung in harmony, and flowers bloom up from the fertile soil.

As the day wore on, Joan and Scatty found a place to sit at the bow, where the ship's railings are the lowest. There they sat, heads slightly touching, and viewed the passing scenery.

"This is nice", said Joan softly. "Getting to take a break from my duties as General."

"Well you deserve it", reassured Scatty."General-in-Chief. You've really came a long way."

"Scatty?"

"Yes, Joan?"

"What is it like to be immortal? I've always wondered about having...eternal life."

The question caught Scatty off guard. "Do you really want to know, Joan?"

Her face was tense but with a silent nod, she indicated her desire for her friend to begin. Scatty heaved a sigh, "Well, I can tell you that it's no cakewalk. It seems like a curse sometimes." Joan gave a look of disbelief. "It's true that immortality enables you to travel and experience wonders that you might not get to in a normal lifetime. But there is also a downside, a dark side." A wave of deepseated emotion flitted across her face. "It might be fun for a while, until everyone you've cared about ages and dies. Things that are familiar and important to you suddenly changes and you can't do anything about it. It's tough."

Scatty felt cool hands cupping her face and she soon found herself looking into Joan's large blue eyes. "Scathach the Shadow, from now on, you won't have to be alone anymore. I shall stay by you, for as long as God will keep me on this Earth."

Scathach, the brave warrior who none have bested, began to shed tears. As the salty liquid flowed, Scatty reached out and hugged Joan, holding her close. "Oh, Joan, I'm so glad to be here with you. There's nowhere else I would rather be than right here. You're more than a friend to me Joan...you're like a sister."

* * *

They finally arrived in the afternoon at the town of Saumur. From there, they rode the last few miles to the Duke's castle on a lavish country estate. There to greet them of course, were the Duke, his wife Lady Therese, and his mother Madame Irene. The welcome was most warm and jubilant.

Joan and Scatty spent three wholesome days there, which were filled with pleasureable rides through the blooming countryside, hunting quails, and peaceful conversations with the Duke and his family. However, Scatty soon got bored of quails, and decided to go after a bigger game. She completely shocked the Duke by wrestling a full grown, healthy adult bear right to the ground, and only walking away with a few scratches.

"There's no better rush than wrestling a good bear once in a while", she told him with a gleaming smile.

The Duke's mother, Madame Irene, is as wise as she is...ancient. Joan and Scatty really enjoyed listening to her as she told them about her childhood, and the olden days of chilvary and nobility. "Honor and virtue is the lifeblood for all nobility. Without it, we are nothing."

During their stay, the two ladies have grown attached to Joan and they came to trust her. They recalled with much bitterness how the Duke have been captured in battle, much to their grief, and that he only have been recently released. The huge ransom they had to pay have greatly ruined them financially, and they were never able to recover from it.

Joan offered Lady Therese her shoulder, who was extremely grateful. "Oh, Joan, my husband wants to go into battle with you, but I cannot bear to see him go! What if he is wounded, or is killed, or get captured again! We cannot afford to pay another ransom. I really don't want to lose him, Joan. Please promise that you will keep my husband safe and return him to me."

Gently, Joan wiped the tears from Therese's face. "Fair lady, I give you my solemn and honest word that no harm, will come to your beloved husband. Have no fear! I shall indeed return him to you as well as he is now, perhaps even better." It is a promise that she intends to keep and make good.

Alas, it was time for them to leave. The Duke and his family bid them a fond farewell. The wife and mother were quite sad to see their lively young guests go.

**OK, so this chapter wasn't as long as I thought it would be. Oh well!**

**BTW Everything in this chapter actually happened. **

**I want you guys to spell IMAP. Tell me if you know what it means, because I do. **

**So please review as usual. Thank you. :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**BOO! I love Halloween! But I'm afraid that I'm too young to go do the good'ol trick-or-treating :( What I like more than candy is...HORROR MOVIES! Anyone here afraid of horror movies? Hmm? Don't be shy now.**

**OK, FINE! Don't tell me! LOL I'm just messing with you guys. I promise that this one is going to be an extra long chapter. You guys are good people! Very good people indeed. So now we're heading off to Blois, where the would-be army is encamped!**

**ATTENTION! MOVE OUT! STAY COOL NOW!**

After preparations at Tours were done, Joan, Scatty, and the new personal staff rode for Blois to meet up with the assembling army. They left Tours under a vivid blue sky, with Joan at the head of the column. Joan's face radiated her joy as she sat upon her majestic steed, the noble Crusader. Scathach couldn't be any happier as she is by Joan's side, on her exotic steed, Midnight. They made a striking a pair, as the bright shafts of sunlight reflected off their armor. A gentle breeze delicately unfurled Joan's new banner, which is carried by her page, Louis.

"Forward!", Joan commanded and in response, a grand flourish of trumpets and beating of drums filled the air. All the men answered by raising up their weapons and voices in a thunderous salute to their new General. At that point, the Dauphin's words echoed in Jean de Metz's mind, "No matter how many other captains or commanders there are, no action is to be carried out without first consulting the Maid!"

Between Jean and Bertrand, they had doubts that the Dauphin's captains and mercenary leaders will come to accept Joan, and follow her orders. Those independent birds knew no law, and they hardly followed even the Dauphin's orders, but only when it suited them. They took orders from no one, and lived by plundering and killing for their pay. All that they knew of Joan, was what they heard from rumors and superstitions. Some people believed that Joan could perform miracles. The point is, these battles hardened veterans of war are too hardheaded and full of themselves, to think that an ignorant child could lead men into battle and plan war campaigns. None of them took Joan seriously(militarily) before she lifted the siege of Orleans and proved them wrong.

They did not see her as worthless, however, far from it. To their minds, Joan is only some kind of spectacular mascot inspire the men, while they do all the fighting. It seems that they are jealous and was afraid that she might steal all the glory away from them. To them, Joan is able to do a valuable thing which they themselves are powerless to do: cast the breath of valor and zeal into their worthless, cowardly troops and turn them into heroic fighters. By their logic, Joan would give the victory and they, the 'professionals', will fight and most importantly, win, the battles. They are everything with her, but nothing without her.

When they arrived at Blois, nothing could have prepared them for the shocking spectacle the army turned out to be!

"So this is an army?", wondered Scatty. "Huh, and they call us barbarians."

Joan is absolutely appalled. "This is all unacceptable! Things are going to change around here."

Order? Why, there was no more order among those brigands than among the wild beasts! It is the most pathetic, sorry, unforgiving excuse for an army any of them have ever seen. Those people went around whooping, shouting, swearing, drinking and carousing! The place was also full of prostitutes and they were right behind the men for rude, and riotous horseplay. Discipline is obviously unheard of, and despite all the commanders' best efforts, there seem no end to the rampage of this wild mob.

Once in Blois, Joan set out on the Herculean task of bringing some discipline and order to the troops. A tough nut for anyone to crack, but Joan was full of determination and would not tolerate such revolting behaviors. To aid her, Joan had another banner made that depicts a crucified Christ and a weeping Virgin Mary. She encouraged the men to rally around the banner to hear Mass in the morning, attend services, and go to confession. So the men would either have to go willingly, or...have a little 'talk' with Scathach.

There are also priests in the army, as was Joan's desire, to keep the men spiritually ready for battle and if fate should have it, to meet God. Joan believes that nobody should die without receiving the Sacraments. During the services, the priests would recite the Church's prayers with the men devoutly responding.

* * *

During the evening on the day of their arrival to Blois, all of the Dauphin's captains came to Joan's tent to welcome the new General and to pay their respects. The commanders had arranged their large pavilions in a way, so that the entrance of each one faced into an open common area. Each individual proudly displayed his colors and coat-of-arms(A set of symbols and colors that represent a faction or family). Their pavilions are boldly painted in blues, reds, yellows, greens, black, and white, which made the dusty field come alive brilliantly.

Joan set up her official tent just a little away from the others. When the captains entered, one could see the surprise in their faces at Joan's beauty and extreme youth. Not to mention that green eyed, red headed warrior goddess next to her. Joan's face lit up with happiness at finally getting to meet the brave captains of the army, who were the renowned heroes of France. Each bowed low, with their helmets held in their gauntlet hands, until Joan bid them to rise. The ceremony of visiting have begun.

The Duke of Alencon took on the liberty of introducing Joan and Scathach to each of the Dauphin's captains. He began by introducing them to the Baron, Armbroise de Lore. The Dauphin have assigned him the responsibility of assisting his mother-in-law with organizing this army of reinforcements. Ambroise and Joan were exchanging niceties, when Sir Jean de Gamaches unable to contain his ire, groaned loudly.

This proud knight really didn't like the fact that Joan is now his superior, when she is only an illiterate peasant girl. So strong was his resentment towards her, that his face contorted in anger as he burst into a rage. "Well, my fellow knights, since it is your desire to follow this low-born peasant, a little saucebox of low birth, rather than someone of my standing then I shall not stop you! From now on, I shall furl up my banner and do my part, not as a commander, but only a simple soldier! Yet, I would much prefer to have an honorable nobleman as my master, and not this childish peasant girl!"

Joan, after retaining her composure at his cutting remark, grew increasingly flustered. She narrowed her eyes as she advanced to stand toe to toe against him. "Fine, go or stay! It does not matter to me! I am the General here and what matters is that God's will be accomplished, and we could certainly do it without you!" She then turned her back on him. Already, tensions were flared.

Gamache's anger was aroused. His faced turned fiery red and his hands clenched into fists. He was about to retaliate, when Scatty and the Duke of Alencon intercepted between them, and pulled the two apart. The Duke, in an attempt to make peace, said nervously, "Come now, friends! Do not argue anymore, please? We are supposed to do battle against the English, not each other! Come now, Joan, Gamaches, apologize and make peace."

Joan and Gamaches just scowled at each other in intense silence. The Duke, out of frustration, had to drag both of them together and they reluctantly shook hands. "Good, I'm glad we are all friends again", exclaimed the Duke as he rubbed the back of his neck. Though from the look of things, none of them really believed it. With that, Gamaches hastily left the tent in a storm of frenzy.

"So...that was awkward", said Scatty.

After some order had returned to the gathering, Alencon introduced Joan to Lord Gilles de Rais, Marshal of the forces of France. This nobleman is immensely wealthy, as one could tell by his fabulous attire. He is adorned in his family colors of gold and black, for he is extremely proud of his ancestry. Rais is tall and lean, his pitch black hair flowed in gentle waves over his broad shoulders. His were mysteriously dark and flashed dangerously like lightening. He also have an unruly goatee, but other than that his appearance was meticulous, down to his polished fingernails. Rais stood self-satisfied in his gleaming armor, creating a striking figure. Scatty can't explain why, but there was something about him that made her feel uneasy.

Seeing that she is only a girl, he towered over her as he sized up to her. Coming to his senses, he made this sarcastic remark, "Where is your thunder, Maid? We thought you have brought it with you from Lorraine." Joan, unafraid, calmly looked into Rais's dark eyes. Unimpressed by this noble's haughty manner, flashing eyes, and shining armor, Joan simply turned her attention to the Admiral of France, Louis de Culen. Gilles de Rais on the other hand, was not prepared for the tremor that shook his spirit as he gazed into her eyes and staggered back. He muttered something hardly incomprehensible.

After the Admiral, Joan met Sir Jean Foucault, Lord of Saint-Germain(Not to be confused with Francis, Count of Saint-Germain). An expert in his field, he is one of the French Long and Cross Bowmen Regiment commanders. "And last is not least", said the Duke of Alencon, "is Satan himself!"

"The name's La Hire! Put it here!", he said as he stretched his meaty hand out to both of them. Joan and Scatty each shook his hand, and then stood there just to marvel at this solid wall of a man.

"So _you_ are the famous La Hire", mused Scatty in awe. "So tell me, is it true that wherever you go, grass stops growing and burst into flames?"

"Scatty!"

"What? I'm just curious", said Scatty.

"Well do you see any dead grass?", exclaimed Joan.

Scatty shyly looked around and finally said, "Nope."

"Exactly."

Surprisingly, La Hire seems to chuckle in great amusement. "By the Devil's horn, I'm a warrior and waging war is my job! That, however, is a whole different matter."

Scatty grinned. "I like him already."

Joan raised in eyebrow in contempt. "And do you always swear like that?"

"Maid, I learned how to swear before I could even talk!", He then roared a hearty laugh. "My family was not very functional!"

La Hire, whose name literally meant 'The Fury', is legendary for his terrible temper and constant use of vulgar curses. He swore so much that he scandalized even the barbarians! He is a Vesuvius of blasphemy, and encyclopedia of sin! They all say that La Hire is a warrior scarred by a thousand wars, yet, has the heart and stomach to endure a thousand more! Easily enraged, he would lash out with his deadly sword. But now that he is well into his late thirties, he carries a two-foot long wooden staff, with whch he would readily thrash anyone who got on his bad side.

In his armor, La Hire was an impregnable iron wall of a man. His balding head is covered in short, thinning gray hair which made his round face seem even fuller. He had bushy eyebrows over light brown eyes. A long red scar occupied his left cheek, and appeared raw and angry next to the stubble of hs beard.

Eventually, they got to meet everyone. All the captains chatted calmly among themselves, and helped themselves to the wine. Then it was time for more serious matters. Joan then began to roll out some new rules as General of the army, which nearly lifted them out of their armor!

"First, I shall have no more swearing in my army." All of the captains stood stunned with their mouths gaping wide. Joan raised her hand to emphasize her words. "Neither will I allow any gambling or prostitutes in the army! They must all leave." The captains could not believe their ears! They interrupted her with their streaming shouts of protest. Yet, Joan kept her ground. "There shall be no swearing, gambling, drunkenness or loose women in this camp! Discipline must take the place disorder. Also, all the men are obliged to go to confession and receive Holy Communion. That includes you nobles, too!"

The protests soon erupted into a riot, with each man turning to each other in astonishment and disbelief. La Hire's face turned livid with rage as he viciously beat his staff against the ground to make a point. He loudly complained, "By the thunders of Hell, what do you mean by no swearing?! Am I drunk, or is my hearing playing me false? By all the damned souls of Hell, why can't a man drink his guts full, or enjoy a good whoring wench from time to time?!" He angrily crossed his arms as he strutted past her. "You are crazy if you think we will put up with these ludicrous orders!"

Joan knew that if she was going to get any headway in this matter, she first have to confront the bullheaded La Hire, whom the other captains admired as a 'man's man'. Joan quickly grabbed his arm to pull him around and ripped his heavy staff away from him. She patted it against her own ungloved hand, before returning her attention on La Hire. With her intense gaze upon him, she used the staff ro rub against his breastplate. "You shall never swear again as along as you are a part of this army! Do I make myself clear?"

La Hire melted, because he was not expecting this kind of severity from a peasant girl. The great La Hire, that scrouge of the English, is thunderstruck by her forcefulness! All he could do was stammer, "A man must have something to swear by, he must! You can't just pretend we're choirboys."

Joan lowered her intensity and added while handing him his staff back, "Trust me La Hire, I am under no illusion of you as a choirboy. You may swear by your staff if you like. Use anything else, so long as it does not offend God or calls upon His enemies! Is that acceptable to you, La Hire?"

With downcast eyes, he meekly answered,"Yes, Maid!" Joan smiled as she pat him on the shoulder.

Although momentarily dazed by La Hire's capitulation to Joan, the other captains soon recovered their senses. The din of their protests rose to a riotous level. "This is madness! What army goes to confession and Mass? What army has ever been denied the joys of swearing, drinking, gambling, or of prostitutes!"

Patiently, Joan waited for the noise to subside before continuing. She spoke while walking among the disgruntled captains. "God have sent here. No earthly man can tell me what to do, for I am sent here by His command alone! It was Him who have made me General of the Dauphin's armies, and my orders are His will!" One by one, all the captains drew closer around her. "We are here to accomplish God's will in the Kingdom of France. How can you expect Him to help and guide us in battle? How can you expect for Him to grant us victory if we are not worthy of it? Well, God cannot! The Lord will not help us, unless we cleanse ourselves free of sin! We must believe and devote our lives to Him! We must live and die for His glory alone!"

One of the captains objected, "What you ask is impossible! The men will see us all daft first!"

"No, you are wrong! It is possible, very possible! God is punishng France with the English, because of its corruption! If we are to be free of this English oppression, if we are to break free of their chains, then it is by God's help alone that we shall accomplish it! We shall be used by Him to punish the English invaders, for their unjust destruction of our fair cities, for the taking ouf our land, and their murderous crimes against our people! To do this, we must confess our sins and embrace His light."

"What? Do you want us to become priests?!", laughed Gilles de Rais with scorn. Scatty was able to step on his foot and silenced him abruptly.

No! I want all of you to become God's soldiers!", Joan went on strongly. "The soldiers of France shall march under God's heavenly banner, and fight proudly in the Name of the Lord! God feels pity for the Kingdom of France and is stretching forth His mighty hand! Hear me, and be assured that I'm speaking in earnest. If you, and I mean all of you, do not come to the religious services tomorrow and instruct the men to do likewise, then I shall leave you. I will return to my home, because you will have shown yourselves unworthy of God's aid." Without another word, Joan solemnly dismissed the captains.

Once outside, they could not find any words to speak, but stood there speechless. La Hire broke the silence and while strutting around like a bear said, "Well I'll be damned! The girl has guts! But maybe there is something in what she says. Believe me, I hate the idea of not being able to swear any better than the rest of you! Even so, as God be my witness, if going to church means we can smash more stuffed English skulls and win a few more battles, then I say we should do it more often! I'll even confess my sins and trust me, I have got quite a ton of them!"

Duke Alencon then spoke up,"Joan is right! It is because of our sins that God is punishing us through the Godons. We should all try to place our trust in God, so that He can help us rid France of her English aggressors! So all of you, be here tomorrow and attend the services! It's our only hope."

* * *

Early next morning, with doffed hats and bowed heads, the captains went to confession before attending Mass. Sir Gamache, Gilles de Rais, Louis de Culen, they all came. Last to arrive was La Hire, who looked ill at ease, but nonetheless stayed through it all. Within the next few minutes of the captains' arrival, the rest of the army assembled, all four thousand of them! Joan was pleased by this and happily said her prayers.

"You really don't come here often don't you?", asked Scatty to La Hire.

He laughed. "The only time that I ever set foot in a church was to raid it! But now it's not so bad, I guess." He added with a smirk.

After Mass, Joan officially addressed the entire army. "Soldiers of France, I am sent here by God to give you victory! Only He can save us, so your faith in Him is most important to our cause! Believe in yourself, for God believes in you and is willing to aid you! Do not let fear take control of your heart, but if it does, look to me and God will remove it! God must and _will_ give us victory!"

What an enthusiastic cheer rose up from the men! The mere thunder of it could make one's heart throb with joy and passion. All of the men's eyes were dazzled as they gazed upon her, their heavenly angel. Joan then personally thanked each of the captains for coming. When she stood before La Hire, she asked him, "Did you pray?"

He looked down at her with confidence. "Yes I did! I pray every God damned day!

"La Hire!", cried an annoyed Joan.

La Hire's boldness faltered and he stuttered like a little boy, "I'm sorry, Joan."

Joan's annoyance quickly fade. "What prayer did you say?"

La Hire drooped his head. "Fair Lord God, I pray to you, do for me, La Hire, as he would do you if you were La Hire and he was God."(That was his actual prayer. Most likely his only prayer)

Joan laughed and jabbed his arm. "That is a good prayer! Well done, La Hire."

"Thank you, Maid. Coming from you, that means a lot to me."

She then became more serious. "La Hire, I have an assignment for you, if you're willing to do it."

"Name it! I'll do anything."

Taking him aside, Joan spoke in a soft voice. "I want you to help enforce the rules that I set down yesterday. Make sure there are no more gambling, swearing, or prostitutes in the army." Joan raised her finger in an attitude of caution. "Remember, the day that these rules are broken, is the day I leave. Will you do it?"

La Hire's chest puffed out in pride as he pulled his shoulders back , to give her a sharp military salute. "I shall do it! I will personally knock the head off any son of a bitch who does not obey!"

The others, overhearing his bravado, began to laugh. "Look, it's a miracle! The Devil has become a saint!"

La Hire's method of enforcing the rules, however, was anything less than saintly. Throughout the day, he and Scatty went around the camp patrolling for any trouble makers and disorderly conduct. His style of restoring order was doing it with his great fists! As he moved along the place, he let loose this way, and that way, every way. Wherever his blow landed, a man went down and fell hard like a tower. "Damn you!", he cried. "Staggering and cursing around like this, and with the General-in-Chief present! You make me sick, maggot!"

**Hey, that's how I solve all my problems too! With my fists! LOL**

**Wow. Personally, this is my favorite chapter so far! **

**So I was just sort of, flinging characters at you. These are actual historical figures, and these are really their personalities. Gilles de Rais is like the dark and mysterious type. La Hire is like the tough and brash type. See? History is so fun. The research for this chapter was a breeze.**

**Thanks for all of you who read my story! You guys are awesome! Please Review. Especially those people who don't. You know who you are.**


	16. Chapter 15

**I have a feeling that you guys are trolling the internet and waiting for me to upload. Not that I'm not cool with that. :) Your reviews, were the best so far.**

**So now I have to tell you guys something and it's not good. I'm going to quit writing this, probably after this chapter. My brain is just fried, I guess. Just know that it hurts me more than it hurts you. So sorry. I'm so sorry...**

**Pffffft LOL! Nah, I'm just messing with you guys, pulling your chain that's all! I'm not really quitting this story, not for anything in the world! This means too much to me, and I care about you guys a lot, even though I can't really see you guys. Yeah, so you guys can just relax now, false alarm!**

**I love pranks and tricks, just for the pure enjoyment of other's reactions! Priceless! I'm a very complex character and I love it!**

** How about some cookies as you read? (::)(::)(::)(::)(::)(::)(::)**

During their last night at Blois, Joan dictated a letter to the English commanders, ordering them to withdraw from Orleans, or face the wrath of God(It written was in third person). She must have been thinking about it and arranging it all in her mind, for the words flowed from her lips so easily. It is a remarkable documente for many reasons. For its matter-of-fact directness, for its spirit and forcible manner, and for its naive confidence in her ability to accomplish her heavenly task. In it, Joan's inner warrior soul is revealed and the soft spoken country girl disappeared from your view. It read:

_King of England and you, Duke of Bedford, who calls yourself Regent of France;William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, John Talbot, and you Thomas, Lord Scales who style yourselves lieutenants of Duke Bedford, obey the will of the King of Heaven. Deliver to the Maid, who is sent by God, all the keys of the good cities that you have siezed and violated in France. She have been sent to restore the royal bloodline of France. She is very ready to make peace, if you will acknowledge the wrongs done to France and pay for what you have taken from us. All of you archers, soldiers, knights, and others who are before the great city of Orleans, return to your own country in the name of God, or expect news from the Maid who will shortly go see you to your very great ruin. King of England, if you do not order your men to retreat, I am General-in-Chief and wherever I shall find your people, I will drive them out, willing or not willing. If they resist, I shall have them all killed, but if they obey I shall be merciful. Do not think that you have a right to this Kingdom of France, for God, the King of Heaven, have chosen Charles VII as the as the rightful ruler and heir to this land, which have been revealed by the Maid. God wills for her to lead Charles to Rheims to receive his worthy crown. If you not heed these words, then be warned that wherever I shall find you, we will strike boldly and make such a hurrah against you that shall be remembered for a thousand years. Be sure to believe that the King of Heaven will send much strength to the Maid and her good soldiers, that you will find them invincible. Then we shall see who has the better right for God's favor. English Duke of Bedford, the Maid prays that you do not force upon yourself, your own destruction. If you do her right, you will yet be able to come with her where the French shall do the finest deed in the history of Christendom. Reply to this if you wish to make peace. If not, be prepared to be reminded shortly of it to your great sorrow. Written Tuesday, Holy Week, April 22, 1429._

(So that was it. Why it's in third person? I have no idea. Why don't you go ask Joan herself in Paris.)

Jean de Metz and Scathach studied the letter. "It seems to me, Joan,"said Jean, "that you covered all possible points in this letter, even inviting these Godons to join us in a crusade against the Muslim infidels."

Scatty added, "If you ask me, flying pigs have a better chance than of that happening. Other than that, well done."

Joan was satisfied and called for her messengers. "Very well. Guyenne, Ambleville , take this to Orleans with all speed. Present it to the English commander, Lord Talbot himself!" Both of them nodded in understanding and with a swift salute, set off on their way. After they left, Joan turned to her friends, a broad smile on her face. "Now, let us go to sleep. We shall leave for Orleans tomorrow!"

* * *

March 23, 1429

The day has come for the army's departure! Jubilant cheering crowds lined the streets of Blois, and many more looked down from their windows. The troops marched out in great strength and splendor as they took to the road towards Orleans. Leading the way are thirty priests who carried banners and chanted the 'Veni Creator Spiritus'(I don't know a lot of church/religious songs). Joan, Scathach, and the captains came next, riding on their magnificent chargers, followed by the personal staff. Joan's beloved warriors, four thousand strong, followed proudly behind. It was indeed an inspiring sight, that interminable column stretching away into the fading distances, and curving itself in and out of the crookedness to the road like a mighty serpent!

Joan's banner waved triumphantly in the breeze as it was held by Jean d' Aulon, who is riding behind Joan. In battle, Joan would always lead the men while carrying her banner high and the sight of it always inspired them to perform superhuman deeds. Bringing up the rear are many wagons loaded with food for the starving people of Orleans, as well as the tools of war such as ammunition and gunpowder. Also in their travel train, is a huge heard of cattle to be driven to Orleans.

They rode all day moving south and east without any real sense of direction. Then they stopped and made camp for the night in an open field, and had to sleep on the dense ground. Joan insisted on wearing her armor to go to sleep. Yet, to Scatty's amazement, she soon fell fast asleep. Scatty herself, drifted into slumber beside her friend.

After morning Mass, they broke camp and the army moved out. Along the way, they bypassed the English at Meung and Beaugency. The captains marveled at how the English made no attempt to move against them. Surely, they would know about the French's position from the many scouts they had in the area, never mind the constant chanting of the priests. "Seriously, it's like we are invisible to them or something", remarked Gilles de Rais. "You would at least expect them to try something." Yet, there was never the slightest sign of them anywhere.

Joan, however, is in pure bliss, for she is confident that the English will be defeated at Orleans. As the evening drew near, they set up camp for the second night near the town of Ardon. During her free time, Joan would associate herself with the soldiers, especially the low racking troops such as the sergeants and common foot soldiers. She wanted to inspire them the best she could by spending a great deal of time with them. She fitted right in and they liked her.

Joan talked to them about the importance of having faith and obedience to God. "Without it",she told them, "God will not help you. You must obey Him if you want victory. All that He asks of this army is to show mercy to all enemy soldiers, who lay down their weapons. Do not hurt them, but allow them to surrender peacefully."

Word began to spread about Joan among the men, and many believed that she is truly sent by God. They are amazed at Joan's goodness and gentle nature. None of them could find anything negative to say about her, because they found quite impossible. Joan's presence also boosted morale, and the courage of their forces grew at an amazing rate! Those who were deemed as 'incurable cowards' soon became the bravest in the army, for when someone in Joan of Arc's position tells a man he's brave, he believes it and lives up to it to the best of his ability.

"The soldiers love you, Joan!", exclaimed Scatty. "Lead them anywhere and they'll follow you, even into the fires of Hell. And trust me...nobody wants to go there."

Joan smiled at her friend. "It's all in a days work, Scatty. All in a days work."

"So...what's your plan?", asked Scatty. "What do we do once we arrive at Orleans?"

Joan replied simply, "Offensive. We shall take on the offensive! The French shall bring the fight to the English, and we won't we stop until they retreat from there." She spoke with a commanding air, a prominent air.

Scatty's lips is a savage smile as she heard that. "Well then, cheers to you, my friend!"

* * *

That night, Joan called all the captains together. She started off the meeting by complimenting on how well all the men are doing, and encouraged them to continuing living their reformed lives. "I must say, that I am impressed with the army's improvements and your progresses. Always be in a state of grace and God shall grant you victory over your enemies." The captains nodded their approval.

"I want you all to know", she continued, "that I am going to make every attempt I can to end this war in mercy and with prevention of the loss of human blood." The captains all stared at her blankly. "By this, I mean that I will accept, at any time, the surrender of all English soldiers be they low born, or high. No harm shall come to come them , so long as they vow to not to take up arms against France, and to follow God's will by returning to their homeland. I expect all of you to follow that completely."

(Oh no, here we go again!) If you think the captain's reaction to her orders at their first meeting was harsh, this one really pushed them over the edge, for their hatred of the enemy was so great!They are consumed by the overwhelming fever of their longing to shed English blood and bust some English asses! They also craved the huge profit that a large body count would bring and all the glory! Who wouldn't want that?

Even so, Joan firmly stood her ground on this point. "If an English soldier begs mercy of you, do not bring down upon him any blow of your weapons!"

Old habits die hard, so the former dormant La Hire erupted into a full blown rage as he roared his objections over the others! He used very strong and vulgar language towards Joan as he loudly complained about her idea of giving the enemy some slack. "What the Hell!First, you tell us we can't drink, we can't swear, and now you're telling us we can't kill! This is bloody war crying out loud! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT TO THOSE BLASTED GODONS!"

Of course, Joan is angry with his violent outbursts, but was able to contain herself as long as they are directed at her. But the very moment that he started cursing and using God's name in vain, she exploded in a Hell-fire storm of auric fury. Joan's silver aura came to life and blazed furiously like a raging flame. The bitter and sour smell of lavender creep into the hostile air. Joan ripped his staff from his hand, and silver sparks quickly streamed on to it, supercharging the momentum. She then struck it at his arm so hard, that the poor thing broke in two! The sound of the impact of the staff against his armor resembled the shot from a mighty cannon!

_"Oh wow!", thought Scatty. "Oh wow, that did not just happen."_

It was now Joan's turn to yell. "Shut your mouth! The air stinks with all of your blaspheming! Haven't I warned you about using such gross language against God? If I ever hear speak that way again, I will cut your body to pieces!" La Hire is extremely mad, but at the same time is stunned by her fierce attack and held his tongue. The meeting ended very quickly after this, with everyone being unnerved by the experience.

Before going to sleep that night, Scatty suggested for Joan to go blow off some steam. So in the moonlit twilight, she went and knelt down behind some supply crates to pray privately. She was very deep in her prayers, when La Hire, still vexed and not seeing her, showed up. He was loudly talking to himself. "It is so stupid for us captains to listen to this damned farm girl, who claims to be sent by God! What was that little vermin the Dauphin thinking, giving her command of the army in the first place?! Has insanity claimed him, too?"(Charles's dad was insane,remember?)

His blaspheming rabble was flowing in torrents when he turned around and saw Joan looking right at him. She looks as if she is going to tear his head off! La Hire stopped dead in his tracks and haltingly said, "Oh, I did not...see you there, Joan! Um...er...what a clear night it is."

Joan's penetrating gaze continues to intensify. Remembering the event earlier, he prudently took some steps back while saying, "There are matters I need to attend to, so I, uh...PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" He then beat a hasty retreat, shrieking like a little girl all the way.

Scatty, after seeing everything from a safe distance, truly almost died of excessive laughter. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my gosh! HAHAHA! Oh, I got a cramp!" The humorous sight of the 'mighty' La Hire running away from her was not lost to Joan either, and she began chuckle quietly to herself.

* * *

La Hire was very embarrassed to have appeared so foolish before Joan, and apologized to her the next morning. He said that he is genuinely sorry for his outburst and that he will try harder in the future to control his temper. Joan, with a warm smile, told him that she had already forgiven him and that all was forgotten.

"So all of this will be our little secret?", he asked.

"As you wish, right Scatty?"

"Oh, alright! But I got to tell somebody."

"Then I would have to kill you", said La Hire dryly."Boy, that was embarrassing!"

The army then broke camp and continued its march of reinforcement. Joan though she is in command of the army and have a clear idea on how she is going to proceed. It is her plan to march boldly upon Orleans on the north side of the Loire, and attack the heart of the enemy, hopefully crippling their efforts. She gave that command to the captains.

Unfortunately, the order is not to be followed. The captains thought her plan his completely insane! Orleans is surrounded by a fence of strong English forts called bastilles, which closed all the gates to the city except one. They did not want the men to have to fight their way into Orleans and risk the total annihilation of the army! Also, they are overcome with the long-standing dreaded fear of the English, for they had the reputation of being invincible in battle. Joan's plan is simply to raise the siege immediately by taking action and fighting. Theirs is to stock provisions in the city and then sit back and wait for the English to give up. So the quick and lickity-split way, or the waste-a-lifetime way?

The captains secretly went word to Count Dunois, who also realized the insanity of it...or at least he thought he did. He advised them to get the around the order somehow. The captains decided that the best way would be to deceive Joan. Joan have no knowledge of Orleans's location, so she is entirely at the mercy of the captains. She innocently trusted them to take her straight to the city, but they did not and denied her that simple request. Joan could have marched right up to the English forts, but no that was not meant to be. She have been cheated out of her first chance to strike a heavy blow for her country.

Nonetheless, Joan's enthusiasm and impatience rose higher and higher with every mile of progress. "Joan, relax, you're so hyper!",said Scatty. "We'll get there soon enough."

Joan only laughed and replied, "I would if I could help it. We're so close, I can just feel it!"

As the third day wore on, the few fluffy clouds in the sky steadily increased in size and number. By early afternoon, they have joined together, covering the sky from miles around. By the time they reached Olivet, which is on the opposite side from Orleans, it was already drizzling.

Joan is all for attacking the English, but the long-standing fear of the English fell upon the captains and they implored her not to. The troops are eager for a fight, but had to suffer bitter disappointment. The column then turned north and is forced to march the rest of the way in the heavy downpour. When they reached the southern bank of the river at Port-le-Bouchet, all of them are very wet and tired.

The river is between them and Orleans. "Oh no...this is not good", said Scatty to herself, knowing what Joan's reaction is going to be.

Being bruised by her armor and soaked down to the skin did not help Joan's disposition at all. When she saw with her own eyes the trick that has been played upon her, she exclaimed in disbelief,"Why is the river between us and Orleans?!" Her shock turned into rage and she stormed as violently as the weather. "Why did this happen?! Who is responsiblt for this deception?" Her eyes flashed fire. None of the captains have the courage to answer, for they really did not want to face Joan's wrath. Instead, they tried to remain in the background and let her shout into the wind.

"I knew this was a bad idea", exclaimed La Hire aside to the others. "I told you so!"

"Then may God grant us the strength to endure it", replied Gilles de Rais dryly.

Meanwhile, Count Dunois, called the 'Bastard of Orleans' (He was born out of wedlock), became aware of their coming. It is his duty to defend the city for his imprisoned father , who is held in the Tower of England. The Count have watched for the army from the atop the battlements of the city. At the first sign of their approach, he set out with a group of knights and crossed the river on a small barge to greet them.

On the other side, Scatty is trying her best to restrain Joan. "Joan, calm down! The city is just across the river, it's no big deal. Look, the Count of Orleans is coming!"

"Very well, then I shall speak to him about this evil deed." Then she hotly spurred her steed towards the bank.

The handsome twenty-three year old young man is sturdily built with a broad chest, wide shoulders, and muscular arms. His black hair is hidden under a large leather cap. His oval-shaped face have well-proportioned features including a straight nose, a firm mouth and strong square jaw,, which he kept clean-shaven. Thick eyebrows arched over his dark brown eyes. The Count is also well educated and very polite in manners.

Rain soaked and with his clothing whipped by the fierce wind, he disembarked the boat. By this time, Joan's temper have eased some, but she is still burning with resentment. Dunois came forward to welcome Joan and graciously bowed to her. He is just about to speak when Joan, in no mood for niceties snapped at him, "Are the Bastard of Orleans?"

The Count only calmly smiled at her. "Yes, Joan, I am he and very glad for your arrival. But please, just call me Bastard as my friends do." Unfortunately, they're not on that level yet.

Joan is not appeased by his courtesy. "And was it you who advised that the army be brought to this side of the river, instead of straight to Talbot and the English?"

The Bastard maintained a friendly demeanor as he replied, "Yes, I and those wiser than me are of the same opinion. We think it was the better and safer way to come."

Joan bent down over her saddle and practically stuck her finger in his face (Joan is pissed off right now. It's not rude). "In God's name! The council of my Lord is far wiser and safer than yours! You have thought to deceive me, but you have only deceived yourselves, for I bring you better help than has ever come to any commander or town. I comes not from the love of me, but from the King of Heaven! He is moved with sympathy for Orleans, and will not suffer for the enemy to hold both the body of the Duke of Orleans and his city.

Just then, Scatty rode up to them. "Joan, we have a problem. All the boats are on the other side and the wind is blowing contrary. Without the boats, the supplies cannot be transported over. We're stuck here."

Joan turned back on Dunois and asked sternly,"Now tell me, in God's name, you who are so wise, what that council of yours was thinking to invent this foolish difficulty?"

Dunois then admitted that a grave blunder have been made. "Well, Joan, the deed is done and it cannot be fixed. I'm afraid we must wait for the wind to change direction", he said in an apologetic tone.

"Yes, a blunder have been made", said Joan, "and it cannot be corrected unless God, Himself changes the wind and correct it for you." She arubtly turned hor horse to face the ashamed captains. "Have I not told you about the importance of God's will and having faith? See what your 'wiser' heads have caused by not following His will? Now we have to wait on Him to correct what you did!"

Joan is very disappointed in the captains, and they knew it and felt terrible. Amazingly, within seconds after she have spoken, the rain suddenly stopped. The gale force wind that had beeb blowing to the west all day, suddenly changed direction and began to blow just as strongly to the east! Every head turned to Joan, utterly astonished by the apparent miracle!

Within minutes, the boats that have been moored on the other side left Orleans. La Hire shouted for all the men to start loading with food and supplies. Unfortunately, there is not enough to transport the entire army to Orleans. The captains admitted to Joan that the only way to fix this , is to sent the army back to Blois and have it march on the other along the other side, according to Joan's original plan. By this time, they had realized that with all her practical good sense, she is not the kind of person to play with.

When the Bastard asked Joan to, come back with him, she refused exclaiming, "No, I must stay with the soldiers to encourage them! I have worked too hard to get them ready for battle, and I cannot bear to leave them."

The Bastardly deperately begged her, "Joan, listen! Listen to me, please! Come back to Orleans with me! The people of Orleans _need_ to see you! They are at the brink of despair, they have lost all hope, and only you can restore it to them! They have faith in you Joan and are expecting you. So are you going to let them live in fear? Please come back with me and give them that aid.

Though touched, Joan is still hesitant even with Scatty's pleadings. Then Father Jean spoke up, "Joan, under the circumstances, I think that it would be best for you to go to Orleans. The people there do_ need _you. Do not worry about the men, for the rest of the priests and I shall stay with the army. I give you my full assurance they will return in a holy state." His words made Joan feel better and she agreed to go with the Count.

"Alright, Bastard, I'll go to Orleans with you. Lead the way."

Joan sorrowed to see her beloved army go, for she said that its heart was great and its enthusiasm high, and with it at her back she did not fear to face all the might of England. So with all arrangements completed for the return of the army, Joan and Scathach, with Count Dubois, La Hire, and a thousand troops crossed over to Orleans, where all the citizens was in a fever of impatience to get sight of their long-awaited saviour.

**Annnnndddd...done. Hope you guys enjoy and savor this chapter! It took days of non-stop typing and hard work. My wrists are swollen and painful and my fingers are numb. **

**So yeah, they did all that hard work for nothing. Now the army have to make a disappointing U-turn. BTW The dialogue between Joan and Count Dunois, the Bastard, whatever you prefer are actual quotes. As you can tell, Joan is was pretty pissed off and didn't give a shit. Who could blame her? Dunois is the only person I know that is willing to be called a 'bastard' without shame. I don't know why. One thing for sure is that he he and Joan aren't even at the 'Friends Level' yet.**

**OK, since because I think it would be fun, I will from now on ask a featured question at the end of every chapter and you guys can answer it, along with your comments. So let start small.**

**What is your favorite color?**

**Mine is: BLLLLLLUUUUUUUUEEEEE! AZZZZUUUUULLLLLL!**


	17. Chapter 16

**OH WOW! WOW! You guys are soooo gullible! *HUGE smile on my face* LOL You guys...really thought I was serious about quitting! I can't stop laughing about it! You guys really fell for the whole 'I'm gonna quit writing' trick. **

**BTW I'm sorry for pranking you guys by the way. Some of you even got a heart attack! Annnyyywaaaaaayyys...thanks so much for making my day! You guys are the best!**

**Anyways...thanks to all my friends, IGotDaFeels, MythoBoy, Jomoma, Koryandrs, and Scathachrox! I love your support and constant pointing out of my teeny-tiny little flaws. Like my jumping around from past tense to present tense. I don't mind...but I find them irritating. Also, I realized with a hint that my story is too glorifying and perfect, but I'm gonna stick with it. Everyone have their own strengths and weaknesses. So blah blah blah...**

**Great answers to the last question! Very nice. Oh, well...I'm just gonna start now. Oh, and be warned. There are some...extremely high levels of cursing and dirty wordplay in this chapter...I've warned you. It's now your choice.**

April 29, 1429

Among the forces stationed at Orleans, was a squadron of 130 Scottish soldiers and archers, led by Sir Patrick Ogilvy of Auchter. Sir Patrick though short in stature, is a most distinguished commander and leader. He's manly, had a nimble mind, distinguished speech and is well known to be the most noble and trustworthy knight. Due to his valor and faithful sevice, the Dauphin granted him the position of Chamberlain and Constable of all Scottish forces in France.

At the approach of Joan and Dunois, all of the Scottish pipers blew a celebratory piercing note, before playing the marching tune 'Hey Tuttie Taiti' (It's not at all what it sounds like). It was this same tune that accompanied their first king, Robert the Bruce, to the battle at Bannockburn against the English. No doubt the sound of bagpipes thrilled Scatty to her very core. "Oh my gosh I love this song!", she cried. "Reminds me of home." For a moment there, she regretted ever leaving her homeland.

They passed under the English forts without a single shot being fired and entered though the 'Burgundy Gate'. It is about eight in the evening. The trumpeters loudly played the notes of fanfare to signal their arrival. Joan, riding on he magnificent white charger entered first, followed by Louis carrying her banner. The rest of the personal staff rode close behind. Count Dunois rode at Joan's right hand while Scathach rode at her left. A thousand troops brough up the rear.

For a moment, there is an eerie silence among the poor people of Orleans as they beheld Joan for the first time. Then suddenly, as if on a silent and prearranged signal, they began to cheer, and the silver trumpets rang forth and the church bells pealed out their booming sound in unison!

Oh, what a picture it was! Such distant seas of people, such a starry spectacle of torches, such booming of cannons, such roaring whirlwinds of welcome! The people reacted as though they are already free, even though Joan is yet to fight a battle. That sea of jubilant humanity surged forward to engulf her, reaching out to touch her as if she is a sacred relic.

The crescendo of all that noise is deafening;why, you wouldn't be able to hear yourself think! Many more people hung out of the windows of their three, four story buildings and if possible, tried to cheer louder than those on the street. "I cannot believe how they are not falling to their deaths right now",remarked Scatty humurously which made Joan laugh.

Joan beamed with joy as she looked lovingly upon those she she have come to help, and graciously thanked them for the warm welcome. Bright torches lit the way as they made slow progress through the pressing throng. Joan's streaming banner accidentally caught on fire from one of the torches! A startled cry from Louis alerted Joan that something is amiss, and she looked back to see what it was. Acting swiftly, she immediately spurred her horse around and galloped to the burning banner. Without a moment's hesitation, Joan beat the flames out with her own gloved hands!

The peopled cheered all the more, as the seasoned captains marveled at her calm and skilled action. "Nice job!", exclaimed Scatty while giving her a friendly fist-bump. As a result of Joan's quick action, only the last four inches of the banner was burnt. Fortunately, the city has it own banner maker who is able to repair the damaged the area.

Along the way, they stopped at the local Cathedral of Saint Croix, so that Joan can spend a few moments in private prayer before addressing the populace. For about half an hour, she prayed before the Lord's presence. Then the noise from the anxious crowd grew to such a din, that Scatty was compelled to interrupt Joan. "Um...Joan, you better get out here! They are getting impatient."

Moments later, Joan finally emerged from the Cathedral's massive doors, and in the most dramatic way too. Once the emotionally starving people caught sight if her, they began to chant in unison, "Angel of God! Angel of God! Angel of God! Please give us some words of hope!"

Joan solemnly stopped at the top of the steps of the Cathedral. Joan could easily feel the people's love for her, and they could feel hers for them. The light of the numerous torches reflecting off her armor gave her figure an unusual luminescence. Joan signaled the crowd for silence before tenderly placing her hands over her heart. With great love, she extended them out to the assembled people. "My very good and dear friends, I thank you for the great welcome that you have given me! The love you show me here tonight, I also feel for you! I only wish that I could enfold each and every one of you in my arms, to show you how much I care for all of you."

The throng sighed as if one, soon the air is filled with their joyous shouts of love. "God bless you, Maid!"

Once more, Joan signaled for silence. Then she urged the people, "You must pray, constantly and devoutly so that God's will may be accomplished here! Have good hope and faith in the Lord, so that He can deliver you from your enemies! Long live Orleans!"

The people responded enthusiastically, "Long live Orleans! Long live the Maid!"

Escorted all the way by the joyous throng, they finally reached the home of Jacques Boucher, Treasurer of Orleans. He stood there to greet them, along with his wife and seven year old daughter, Charlotte. This is to be their lodgings for as long as they are to stay in Orleans. There, Joan, Scathach, and the personal staff retired for the night, for they are weary from all the excitement and toils of the day.

All the while, the delirium of the masses went on the rest of the night and with it, the joyous clamor of the bells and the celebratory cannon shots. The whole night echoed with the sound of it.

"Long live Orleans and long live the Maid!"

* * *

April 30, 1429

*Knock Knock*

"Come in...", answered a low feminine voice.

Scathach gently eased the the door open, and stuck her head in. On the bed is Joan, with the covers pulled over her face, for the light from the window is shining directly upon her. As like everyone else, Joan was extremely tired last night and passed out to sleep as soon as they were shown to their rooms.

"Come on, Joan, breakfast is ready!", called Scatty.

Those words acted like a starting whistle. Immediately, Joan bolted up and exclaimed. "Breakfast is ready? Great, because I am absolutely starving!"

"Well, yeah you should be", replied Scatty. "We all skipped dinner last night, remember? Now come on, I need feed my stomach!"

Out of nowhere, Joan rushed right past Scatty, knocking the vampire off her feet. "THE BACON IS MINE!", cried Joan as she made a mad dash towards the kitchen.

It took Scatty a few moments to get back on her feet, and regain her senses. "What the heck! Joan, wait for me! Ugh, you're so small, but it still hurts so much."

(HAHAHAH! Yeah, that's just a little fun scene I thought about. BACON! ME HUNGRY! GIVE ME YA BACON!)

* * *

Joan is ready, but had to wait until there is an army to work with. After breakfast, she called all the captains for a council of war. They have to walk several blocks over to Count Dunois's private headquarters. Scatty found it amusing to observe the different reactions Joan received from the people.

Some stood aside like statues as they gaped in awe. Others grinned and pat her back when she passed them. Joan handled that well, and answered with a soft thank you. Some bowed respectfully from the waist and Joan in return, bowed or nodded her head at them. Still, others dropped to their knees with an expression as they are beholding Christ himsef! This disturbs Joan greatly, for she did not want to be worshipped. Scatty, on the other hand, had to bite her lower lip just to refrain heself from laughing at their ridiculous expressions.

In some cases, she would even have to protect Joan from their overenthusiastic advances. Given half a chance, they would have ripped her clothing right off her back (*BLUSH EXTREME RED*) just so they could have a souvenir of the Maid!

"Love, love , love, love, love", exclaimed Scatty,"They have a lot of that to give you, Joan."

"Heh heh...perhaps a little too much."

If a soldier caught sight of Joan, he will snap to attention and give her a brisk military salute. Of all these reactions, Joan loves this one best, beacause she feels the most comfortable returning it with one her own.

Located on a heavily trafficked street is the Bastard's headquarters. There, a steady stream of soldiers and civilians of the local militia is gathered. Once the troopers saw her coming, they began chanting, "Joan! Joan!Give us Joan to lead us into battle! Death to the Godons!"

"Well would you look at that!", said Scatty. "You have your own little pep squad."

"They're just anxious to engage the enemy", reassured Joan, "and so am I."

Joan and Scatty entered the building and found the captains seated at a large table, waiting for them. Both of them solemnly took their seats, then Joan acknowledge everyone with a slight nod. An unbearable silence filled the room. The captains are still coping with guilt at their dirty deception. La Hire stirred uncomfortably in his chair, Gilles de Rais drowsily rested his chin on his hands, and the Duke of Alencon absentmindedly tapped his fingers upon the table. Count Dunois opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out and he changed his mind.

"Psst...I think they want you to say something first", whispered Scatty to Joan.

Finally, Joan spoke up,"As the Dauphin's General, I say let us attack the English at once and without delay!" Her voice was filled with power and confidence as she said that. "The Lord is on our side! Let us go forth in His strength and victory shall be ours!"

The captains cannot believe their ears! Here is this inexperienced girl blind with enthusiasm, drunk with confidence for all they know, actually odering an assault upon the enemy before the return of the relieving amy, which was forced to return to Blois.

"Joan, this is too rash. We do not have enough men", said the Bastard politely.

"What!" Joan got up and walked over to the window and threw the shutters open. The echoes of the soldiers' chanting reverberated in their ears, "Joan! Joan! We want Joan! Death to the English!"

Joan pointed out into the street. "Then what are these, Bastard? Phantoms?"

Dunois tried to explain, "Joan you do not understand. I've been far longer than you have, and know well that the English greatly outnumber us. Besides, these men are inexperienced and untested.

"What about the city's militia?", Joan pressed. "They seem quite active, unlike you."

"Bah! They are merely peasants with sticks! Surely they will be crushed", exclaimed Gilles de Rais while leisurely running his fingers through his goatee.

"Well, it appears to me that _you _captains are the ones that knows nothing!", said Joan sharply. "It is you who lack the understanding of my mission here! So I shall now make it as simple as I can for you." Joan looked at all of them in the eyes as she went on, "Things have changed, God is now fighting on our side. Do any of you have a clue what that means?"

They just stared at her blankly in dazed ignorance. "It means that one man can do the work of thirty. All we have to do is put in some effort, which I know can be hard for some of you, and God will do the rest! God helps those who help themselves. Instead, you men are too busy sitting around and inventing plans that are a damage! All we need to do...is go boldly against the English , trusting in God, and the victory is ours! How much plainer do I have to be?"

The captains are becoming exasperated. Dunois tried painstakingly to keep from losing his temper, but becomes increasingly upset until he could no longer contain himself.

"It's not that easy, Joan! We cannot! You might be the General, Joan, but this is _my_ city and these are _my_ people, and I want what is best for their safety! So I declare that we will not go against the English until we have more professional reinforcements and that is final!" The Count finished by significantly pounding his fist upon the table.

Joan frowns and crossed her arms in defiance. "Well then, you should have thought about that before deceiving me! Then the army, which _was_ your reinforcements, wouldn't had to return to Blois so that we can actually get some work done!"

She and the Bastard exchanged narrow glances with each other for about two minutes. Finally, Joan calmed down enough to say, "Fine, we will wait for the army to return from Blois. In the meantime, I shall go survey the enemy defenses for any weakpoints." Near the door, she addressed them, "But once the army have arrived, are going on the assault at once! Agreed?"

The men exchanged glances before responding, "Agreed!" Frankly, they are just relieved that she changed her mind, giving them more time to goof off. Joan and Scathach then took their leave and exits.

* * *

"Well...the meeting went _partially _OK", says Scatty while walking beside Joan. "At least no one got hurt or blasted with auric power this time."

Joan sighs in fustration. "They just don't get it! Those men need to realize that they are the ones lounging about and wasting time! It's no wonder how this siege have for lasted seven months, which is quite ridiculous."

"They're just used to the traditional policy of passiveness."

"And how is that working out for them?", press Joan. "This situation cannot be taken lightly. If Orleans fall, then the rest of France will go with it."

Suddenly and out of nowhere, a pale and panicking Ambleville came rushing towards them. "Joan! Thank God, I found you! Guyenne was taken prisoner! The English took him when we delivered your message." He is bruised and exhausted, and let out a nasty cough.

Scatty's face contorted with anger. "Wha-what! How could they? That is completely unbelievable and downright wrong!"

"Oh, Ambleville! What happened to you?", asked Joan worriedly as she try to console him. "Who did this to you?"

"Never mind me, Joan. It's Guyenne, they English said they will burn him!"

With fire blazing in her eyes Joan exclaimed, "No! Those evil men! Ambleville, show me the way to the nearest English fort. I shall speak with this Gondon, Talbot!"

Ambleville led Joan and Scatty a short distance outside the city's west gate, to the English fort of Croix Boissee. There, Joan yells to the English in her native tongue, "Talbot! How dare you hold my herald, Guyenne, prisoner! I am General of the armies of France! Release him or you will regret taking him!"

Instead of Talbot, two English captains came to the ramparts. They are Lord Thomas Scales and William de la Pole. Lord Thomas began by hurling cruel and degrading insults at her. "We English do not surrender to a harlot and her pimps! Go back to your cathouse, witch!"

Joan is deeply offended by his words and a few tears began trickle. Overcome with emotion, Joan violently shouted back, "You liar! I am not what you say!" She is cut short, when a shower of arrows came raining down upon them! The English on top of the ramparts jeered and taunted them as they made a hasty retreat back into the city. (That was rude! Who does that?!)

* * *

After lunch the same day, Joan decided to go to the Tourelles and bid the English to retreat from Orleans, or prepare to face the consequences. Originally, the fort was built by the French to protect Orleans, but the town's people abandoned it during the early days of the siege. They tried to destroy the fort, but the English were able to repair the damages.

The Tourelles is rested upon the end of the bridge that connects Orleans to the other side of the river. To prevent the English from reaching the city Dunois ordered for a section of the bridge to be destroyed. Then, the citizens of the city built a barricade next to the gap created.

Joan, accompanied by Scathach and a few soldiers, rode to the barricade, which is in easy shouting distance from the fort. She dismounted and yelled for Glasdale, the commander of that fort. "Glasdale! In God's name, surrender and save yourselves! If you do not, then great peril will soon befall upon you!"

Eventually, the old Glasdale reared up his bony head from the top of the Tourelles. "Ha! It's the wicked French witch!"roared Glasdale in front of his men. "After we burn your herald, we shall roast you if we ever catch you!"

"In your sick, twisted dreams, Glasdale!", cried back Joan.

Scatty, furious, joined in the 'conversation', if you could call it that. "You English have such big mouths! Why don't you come over here and say that to our faces so I can fuck the freaking' Hell out of you! You ain't burning nobody over my dead body! So just sail away and never come back, you bunch of red-ass monkeys!"

A loud "ohhhhhh" rippled across the soldiers that are with them. (Yeah! You tell them Scatty! Whoo!)

"You French sure are cowards for using a witch to fight against us! Everyone knows that God fights on the side of the English! Go fuck yourself in Hell!" (For that last time: HE. DOES. NOT! SO SHUT UP GLASDALE!)

Joan's temper ran high and she jumps impulsively on to the barricade while screaming, "You lie, Glasdale! We are no cowards and God fights on the side of the French!" Her voice echoed like a thunder clap. For her own protection, Scatty have to pull her down from there.

This does not hinder her determination, and she continues to fling her challenge at them. "Glasdale, come out of there with your army and I will come out with mine! If you win, then burn me as you wish! But if I win, you and all the others of your like must depart peacefully from France and return to England!"

Glasdale raised his sword high and thundered, "I do not stoop to make such deals with a wicked witch! Do you take me for a fool?!" (Um...yeah, pretty much!)

Joan again jumps onto the barricade and scoffs, "Ha! Then _you _are the coward, Glasdale! Not the French!"

Those who accompany her roared with great laughter. "OH! You just got told, Glasdale the Chicken!"taunted Scatty.

The English are not amused and responds loudly with cannon fire! (Oh great! First, you shot arrows and now cannon balls!) Some of the deadly balls( Not THOSE kinds of balls) fell only a few yards from them, while others flew over their heads. They cautiously ducked, weaved, and darted their way through the bombardment while dashing back to safety.

Once inside the city, Joan continued to run not out of fear, but in determination to give these English devils a taste of their own medicine. She rushes to the top of the wall facing the Tourelles and ordered the cannonades, "Do not be afraid to return shot for shot to those Godons! We shall be victorious over them!

The great artillery duel between the French and English went on for a good half hour, until both sides have had enough.

* * *

In the evening before dinner, Joan summoned Count Dunois saying that she have an important task for him. He came and she explains, "Bastard, my friend, I need you to take a small body of men and ride to Blois. I sense that there is trouble among the army. Go to them, and tell them that the Maid bids them to fear nothing! Go at once and bring them back here."

"As you wish, Joan", said Dunois. He then set out at once with a picked body of men for Blois. He had balked her once and got unpleasant results for himself. He has no intention to meddle in that way again. The garrison positions itself to offer protection for Dunois and his company as they ride away. Though the English have the superior force, they are not tempted to make any move against them, nor fired a single shot.

Once the the party is out of sight, Joan and the soldiers regrouped to march back into Orleans. At their return, news of the enemy's inaction spread like wildfire among the ecstatic populace! On almost every corner people are talking, "Did you hear? God struck the Godons dumb with fear! They are afraid of us, now that the Maid have come! By God's mercy, we shall soon be rid of them!"

That night after dinner, Joan went to retire in the room she and Scatty share together. "Um, Scatty...what are you doing?"

Scatty, instead of preparing for bed, dons her dark hooded cloak and straps on her belt with swords in their sheaths. A flickering light appeared in her green eyes as she answer, "I am going to rescue Guyenne! It's not fair for the English to take him prisoner like that."

Joan smiles in appreciation. "Alright, but at least try to be careful. Try to be subtle. We don't want them to take you hostage too."

"Joan, in case I haven't told you, many have tried to contain me, but they all failed miserably."Scatty grins. "I can't guarantee you any of that, but I'll try my best."

* * *

"Hurry! Hurry! Before they are-"

A squad of English soldiers bursts into a prison complex.

"-gone!"

All of the prison cell doors are opened. The whole place looks ransacked and there are signs of a great struggle. They also found the dead bodies of five English guards. The soldiers searched around the place for prisoners, but does not find any.

"Goddamn it!", cried the captain of the guards angrily. "We let them get away! Who knows what mischief they are causing by now."

"Oh boys!", called a mocking voice.

"What the hell! Who-" The startled English soldiers turned around to see Scathach, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Looking for these?" Scatty holds up the keys in front of them. Crowded behind her is a mob of angry French prisoners, among them is Guyenne, whome she had freed earlier. So why not take it a step further and free al of them? The rag-tag band of inmates are armed with simple wooden clubs and spears. They meant business!

The English held their weapons close and prepares to stand their ground. "None of you are making out of here alive!", growled the captain.

Scatty's lips pull back in a savage smile, revealing her sharp fangs. "Try and stop us!"

Then tossing the keys aside, Scatty takes out her twin short swords. Yelling her signature, blood-curdling war cry, the Shadow led the French in a blood assault against their English tormentors.

"Freedom!"

* * *

So the rescue expedition was a great success, and with Scatty's help, all of them returned to Orleans as free men. Joan thanked and congratulated Scatty upon her return with Guyenne. "Aww, it was no big deal!", cried Scatty. "I would have done it anyways if it were you."

"Ugh...sorry, it's just too painful to talk about", said Guyenne when Joan asked him about it. "Now where can I get some food? They didn't feed us at all in there...those wretched demons!"

While waiting for Count Dunois to return with the army, Joan spent her time going around the city encouraging the people to take heart and have faith in God. Wherever she went, the streets filled with jubilant and adoring crowds. They couldn't get enough of her! The exuberant would press after her all the way to the front of her lodgings, and almost broke down the door. It was as though the Boucher home is under siege itself by the eager masses! (I guess that explains why she prefers to stay under the radar)

"Joan, you need to stop being so awesome and amazing!", exclaimed Scatty. "Seriously, don't these people have jobs or something?"

To keep the overwhelming populace at bay, guards had to be posted at the front and back entrances of the Boucher home. Day after day, Joan would tell the people of the town about the importance of having faith in and obeying God. Without it, God will not help them. Simple: They have to obey and believe if they are to be free. It was with these or similar words that Joan began to build up the confidence of the populace.

* * *

March 3, 1429

Joan in her shining armor, rides out into the street with Scathach. Even at this early hour, the street is swarming with the ever fanatic multitudes. It seems as if a sea of humanity is frantically converging upon this lone girl. Joan is always kind to these good people, and her love for them radiated out from her glowing, smiling face. Scatty has a distinct feeling that Joan is quietly enjoying all this attention being showered upon her.

Their journey through the narrow jammed streets to the city's Bernier Gate proved the be absolutely grueling. Today, Joan have decided to go and inspect the five nearby English forts, located to the northwest. These are massive stone towers with strong defenses. Three of them have the additional protection of earthen mounds and stone embankments surrounding them. The forts are no more than five feet apart from one another.

The Duke of Alencon once commented that with only 300 men, he could easily defend one of those forts against an army of thousands. It is from these stone forts, that the English frequently bombards Orleans with their deadly cannon fire. What is amazing is how Dunois could possibly have let the English construct them in peace. If he were bold enough, he could have prevented them from being built in the first place.

While waiting for the gate to open, even more civilians joined then. It is unbelievable! Emboldened by their belief that Joan's presence harm from befalling them, people young and old followed them! It is an unusual sight to see the carefree attitude of this noisy throng as the people laughed and chatted among themselves. One woul think they are all going on a picnic, instead of encountering the enemy.

They came up close and personal to the English forts, they they are in easy bow and cannon shot. Joan is wearing a golden cape over her polished armor and sported her velvet cap laden with ostrich feathers, just so they wouldn't miss. Are the English amazed at the scene? Are they amused by it? Heavens, nobody could know for sure. They most likely thought them insane!

"Just look at them up there", said Scatty looking up. "I wonder what they're thinking."

The enemy did not even bother to hurl cruel or demeaning insults at them. It is as if they are under some kind of frozen spell. The English and the French observed each other, as they slowly paraded by right under their noses.

"You see, Scatty, my voices were right! We could have entered the city I wanted to without any harm." She said no more, but only shakes her head at the lack of faith the captains displayed.

* * *

On that evening, the priests of the city arranged a religious procession to beseech the Lord, God for deliverance. Heading the procession is the Bishop of Orleans, Jean de Saint-Michael or John Carmichael, in his native Scottish tongue.

Following behind them are ten young boys, followed by ten Deacons. Each Deacon wore a cassock lined with white linen. The air is filled with the mist of incense, as the Deacons rhythmically swing their censers. Fifteen priests walks solemnly before the Holy Sacrament and Bible. They wore white linen robes fringed in gold lace, and around their necks hangs beautiful gilded crosses. The strains of their passionate chanting rise up to God as the incense rises up to the Heavens.

For two hours, the procession wound its way through the streets filling the city with their sacred harmony. All of the city's inhabitants left their tasks and homes, moved to taking part in this most impressive event. As they proceed together, each person carries a lighted candle. The participants took no notice of rank or station in life. The knight is walking next to the foot soldier, the shopkeeper is next to the beggar, and the civilian is next to the seasoned fighter.

It seems as that they all have forgotten and put aside their social differences, all in a spirit of love to pray to God for the deliverance of their beloved Orleans. How wonderful it is to see Joan's influence among these people. She truly helped to unite all of them in a common goal to win back Orleans from the evil clutches of their enemy.

**Alright, what an interesting and fact-filled chapter! Nothing is more invigorating than a good, old school style trash talking session. Heh heh heh heh**

**I don't want to say this but...the worst review that I ever got so far is from Randomness51 on chapter 2 :P Sorry dude, or dudette whoever you are, but I'm calling you out big time. So talk to the hand, mm hmm. That is really the only negative thing I have to say for now.**

**Oh, yeah, and the English really did take Joan's messenger hostage. Back then, messengers had immunity from hostile attack, so they were untouchable. So in doing that, the English basically violated one of the major rules of medieval warfare. That was also before certain codes on how you should treat your prisoners were invented. If you were rich and can pay a ransom, they treat like an honored guest until your family pays it. However, if you're a lowly peasant, they'll just throw you into some disgusting, dark, filthy hell hole and leave you there to rot. **

**Yeah, that's pretty unfair. That jailbreak scene was just something I came up with during one of my day dreamings so...and yay! Scatty rescued Guyenne and freaking' fucked up their asses and what not! "Red-assed monkeys", genius. OMG THAT TRASH TALKING SCENE! LOL I crack myself up.**

**Question of the Day: What is your favorite food? One answer, please.**

**Mine...oh man, there is so many to choose from! I probably...would have to say ice cream. Yep! ICE CREAM! YOU SCREAM, I SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM! XD**

**Unless you're lactose intolerant...then it sucks :(**

**You know what would help? If you will review my story...**


	18. Chapter 17

**Hello fanfic people! I'm back! So yeah, I've been busy...went to school, beat up a lame-o jerk, took a test, regular business. OK so in this chapter, the action stuff will kick in.**

**And yeah, that last chapter was pretty awesome. I try my best, eat right, exercise(as if) and get totally high on suger and hyper whenever I can, normal kid stuff. La la la la la enjoy!**

May 3, 1429

Joan, wanting to test the valor and loyalty of the Scottish commanders who came to France's defense, sent an invitation to each of them to join her for supper. They come from the houses of Christon, Douglas, Hamilton, Kennedy, Melvill, Houston, and Ogilvy, all very brave Scots. They will soon prove to be highly exeptional part of Joan's army. These brave men stands united with the French against a common foe, the notorious English.

One would be terribly remiss if they forgot to mention the mighty help of France's long time brothers-in-arms, the Scots! These valiant and fiery fighters have stood shoulder to shoulder with them for as long as anyone could remember. Even when the rest of Europe turned its back and was content to see the Kingdom of France swallowed up, they alone remained steadfast and loyal.

Many knights and soldiers have hazarded all to come and help the Dauphin. Back in about 1420, they risked life and limb sailing from Scotland's west coast and through the treacherous Irish Sea, finally to land at the port of La Rochelle. Their leader was the widely renowned Earl of Buchan, John Stewart. He was accompanied by his goodly half brother, Sir William Stewart, along with 6,000 of their fellow countrymen.

Sadly, the French as a people did not welcome them warmly, for they were skeptical of their motives. It was with a dismissive attitude that they labeled the Scots as "barbaric consumers of wine and meat". All that changed, however, when on Easter Sunday 1421, the noble Scottish army fought, and more importantly, won its first great battle at the town of Bauge. In great gratitude, the Dauphin named Sir John Stewart, the Constable of Scotland!

Recognizing their powerful fighting skills, he also created a team of personal body guards consisting solely of Scots. A finer team of soldiers probably never existed. Continuing the fight, those aggressive warriors wrestled the towns of Cravant, Verneuil, and Montargis from the English grasps. Then Lord John and his half brother came to defense of Orleans on February 8, 1429 with a troop of 1,000 soldiers and knights. Unfortunately, he and his courageous brother along with 500 of their men, were killed four days later at the infamous Battle of the Herrings. (On the same day Joan predicted it!)

Joan and Scatty have already met Sir Patrick Ogilvy during their arrival to Orleans. So he takes it upon himself to introduce the rest of the Scots by rank. First is the Earl of Douglas, and he comes forth towards Joan with a small gift in his hand. It is a Scottish thistle pin made of gold with a red ruby in the center.

He explains to them that this is the symbol of his country, because it is pleasing to look at, but painful to touch(Because it's extremely pointy). "See? It's very beautiful is it not, Maid? Just...be careful to keep it away from your eye. I,um, learned that the hard way." Joan is happy with his unusual gift and graciously thanks him.

"Hey! You didn't get me one?", whined Scatty.

Douglas chuckles and said, "Why? Do you want one? Sure! I'll get one for you soon."

After him is Sir Thomas Houston, a brave knight and exceptional commander. He leads a noble company of twenty-two soldiers and seventy-one archers. Squire David Melville commands a humble company of only twelve soldiers and twenty-eight archers. He is extremely proud to tell all who would listen, about how his great grandfather fought alongside William the Conqueror! They all just smiled and nodded their approval.

Squire John Christon, an able leader, heads a combined force of foot soldiers and archers. This particular Scot looks like one of those mythical "wild beast men", with his thick coarse hair cascading over his wide shoulders and his mighty beard bristling down to the middle, of his broad chest.

He extends his huge hairy hand out to Joan,"Maid, it is a fine honor to fight under your leadership." Joan, smiling broadly and speechless, just stands there for a moment marveling at his appearance.

Scatty, meanwhile, is quite sure that Joan have never seen anyone quite like him. "_And I thought La Hire is gigantic!", mused Scatty. "Now that I think about it, he does reminds me of a hairy troll I once fought, but more good looking."_

The last of the Scots to be introduced is Sir William Hamilton. Due to his lack of income, he heads a small company of only five soldiers and fifteen archers. Even so, a finer fighting man they never met.

Last but not least, is captain Hugh Kennedy, who arrives fashionably late. He is attached to Sir Ogilvy's command. So brave and fierce a warrior was he in previous battles, that the Dauphin granted him the privilege of using the French fleurs-de-lis as his own coat-of-arms.

Greatly embarrassed by his tardiness, this tall and ruggedly handsome man came forward, and doffs his had as he bows before Joan. Joan, pleased by his courtesy, solemnly bids him to rise. "You are welcome here, my comrade Kennedy."

So taken by her friendly tone, a huge grin fills Hugh's face as he replies, "By the Lord, none before you have spoken the name of Kennedy more fairly, lass."

Then John Christon cried, "Sorry to interrupt, but are we going to eat now or what?"

Dinner that night with the Scots created a merrily cheerful mood! Scatty, of course, is just having a blast and grand 'ol time socializing with the brave warriors of her homeland.

"Ah, it's so good to be alive right now!"exclaimed Sir Ogilvy while raising his chalice high. "Cheers to everyone!"

The rest of the Scots responds by rooting and heartily pounding the table. By the end of the night, Joan came away impressed by their passionate determination. Indeed, a fiercer bunch of bone-crunching, limb-chopping, and blood-soaked hellions you would never find tamed, of course, save under the powerful presence of the Maid.

So smitten by her are these ferocious, but gallant fighting men, that each man in turn went to his knee to pledge their loyalty. "We vow eternal loyalty to you, Maid, and will serve you proudly with our lives!"

* * *

March 4, 1429

The morning came with the long awaited news that Count Dunois and reinforcements are coming. Joan, thrilled, springs to her feet and wakes up Scatty.

"Wait? What? Where are we going?", asked Scatty drowsily, as her eyes squint in the harsh morning light. Black and red spots dance before her eyes.

Joan calls for Jean d' Aulon to come and help her arm. She then turn back to Scatty and said,"Dunois is back with the army. Finally, we shall go and meet with them."

While getting her armor on, Joan ordered Raymond to get their horses. Once fully armed, Joan and Scatty then rush down the stairs and into the streets, where Raymond stands ready with their horses. Both of them effortlessly vaults into the saddle and at once rides off to the Renard Gate, with the rest of the personal staff following after.

Five hundred men marches out with them to welcome the returning army. In only minutes, Joan skillfully deployed the troops along the route to maximize their defensive capabilities. Then, completely ignoring the English, she urge her valiant charger into a full gallop and races to Dunois with the column of troops. Father Jean led the other twenty priests as they sing the "Veni Creator Spiritus".

Joan stops near him as his face beam with happiness. "I kept my promise, Joan! The other priests and I kept the men spiritually ready for battle. And if I do say myself, we were instrumental in keeping them focused on their heavenly purpose!"

Joan smiles warmly at him. "Thank you, Father Jean, I knew I could count on you!" She then spurs her horse on to greet the Count. "Welcome back, Bastard! I thank God for your safe return. Were there any problems with the army?"

Dunois appears glad to see Joan, for the army had begun to get restive and show uneasiness now that it's getting close to the dreaded bastilles. All that disappeared now, as word ran down the line with a huzzah that the Maid has come.

The Bastard flash a broad grin and answered, "Yes, Joan, there were and it was wise of you to send me. Traitors among the Dauphin's revenue were working to undermine the morale of the army. But then I gave them your message and it worked like a charm! I soon had the army moving."

Joan is pleased with him, and smiles as she playfully pat his shoulder. "Thank you, Bastard. You've done well this time."

The Count then asks her to halt and let the troops pass in review, so that the men could be sure that the reports of her presence are not a ruse to revive their spirits. So she takes a position on the side of the road with her personal staff. There, the watch in silent admiration as the soldiers march by with martial stride, huzzahing all the way.

Joan is armed except a helmet, but instead wears a cunning velvet cap with a mass of ostrich feathers cascading over its edges. The thankful people of Orleans gave her that as a gift of their appreciation. The sight of soldiers always sets her blood leaping, and lit the fires in her eyes, which brings the warm rich colors to her cheeks with it.

When all the army have passed, Joan returns to the front and rides at the head of the column. Anxiety overcame the men as they approach the frowning bastilles full of enemy soldiers. Miraculously, the English never uttered a challenge, nor fired a shot. Joan knew well that when the English saw her riding at the front, a good deal of their courage had oozed out and vanished. They are stricken with some sort of spell that numbs their bodies, paralyzing and rendering them unable to lift their weapons.

On the way back to the city, Dunois inform Joan of an approaching army, led by Sir John Fastolfe, coming to reinforce the English. Joan turns upon him and said, "Bastard! Bastard! In God's name, I command you that as soon you learn of Fastolfe's arrival, that you will inform me. For if he passes without my knowledge..." Joan place her hand to her throat, "You shall loose your head."

Dunois gasps and rub his neck. "Heh heh...I do not doubt that, Joan. I promise that I shall indeed inform you."

"Do you really mean that?", asked Scatty in a low whisper.

Joan laughs quietly and replies, "No, of course not! I only said that to make a point."

"Oh, well that makes more sense."

Joan raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

Scatty turn her head towards Joan and blows a stray strand of hair off her eye. "Well, it's not like you to threaten anyone like that, unless perhaps it's the English." Scatty pause before adding decisively, "You're such a gentle-natured person...and I know well that decapitation isn't really your kind of thing."

Joan nods. "You know me so well, Scatty. Although, I do have my suspicions about the captains."

Scatty smile lightly and reaches over to hold her friend's hand. "Well if you ever have any trouble with them, just know that I will agree with your decisions and always have your back."

All of Orleans met the army at the gate and cheer it through the jubilant streets to their barracks. Nobody has to rock it to sleep; it slumped down dog-tired, for Dunois have rushed it without mercy. All would be quiet for the next 24 hours, all but the snoring.

* * *

Tis an afternoon in May, when all through the Boucher house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Everyone had set aside their arms aside and laid down to rest their weary bodies. Suddenly, their deep and peaceful slumber is abruptly ended by cry of anguish. (That first part was from The Night Before Christmas. Did it work?)

"French blood blood is being spilled!" Joan's cloudy blue eyes blinks open in a heart beat, and she springs up from her bed yelling,"My voices have told me to against the English, but I do not know if I must go against their forts, or Fastolfe who is bringing them reinforcements!"

Little Charlotte pulled on her hand crying out, "What do you mean? To whom do you speak? There's nobody here but you and I."

Joan bends over the wondering child and kisses her cheek to soothe the alarm in those youthful eyes. "It's nothing, Charlotte. Now I need you to be a good girl and go to your mother, alright?" The little girl, though still bewildered, nodded her head and hastily leaves the room.

Meanwhile, Joan is still calling out, "My armor! Bring me my armor and a horse!"

Scatty, who was in the hallway, brought Jean d' Aulon who began to arm Joan. Scatty then went to get her own armor on. Fully armed within minutes, Joan made her way down the stairs. There, she found Louis day dreaming by the front door. "Ah, you bloody boy! The blood of France is being shed and you did not tell me? Please go and get my horse!"

"I shall do as you wish, Maid!"

Jean de Metz and Scatty after getting themselves ready, soon catched up with her. "Joan, what is going on? What is wrong? There are no battles going on, everything is quiet!", they both said in one breath.

"Oh, you shall hear war sounds in a moment", reassured Joan, "but I must be at the front right right now! French blood is flowing!" Then she is gone. Jean de Metz and Scatty just looked at each other in bewilderment. It is true as she said. Before one could count to five, there broke upon the stillness the hoarse cries of commands and the distant booming of cannons!

Joan darts out of the house, where Louis has her horse, the Crusader, ready for her. The Crusader is her favorite horse. Scathach runs into the barn and retrieves her own horse. She came out just in time to see Joan ride away so swiftly that sparks fly from under her horse's hooves.

Then Raymond runs out from the house with Joan's banner in hand. "Joan! You forgot your banner! Joan!"

"Raymond! Give the banner to me! I'll give it to her!" Raymond lifts up the large banner, and Scatty gracefully takes it from his grasp. "Get the others! Hurry!"

Soon enough, Jean de Metz, Bertrand Poulegny, Aulon, and the two pages mounted their steeds fully armed and stream after her. Ahead of them, Joan have just reached the Burgundy Gate. A moment later, all the brave captains and knights came to her side, too! There was Sir Jean Foucault, La Hire, Sir Kennedy and his fellow Scots! What a remarkable sight. Old and new friends alike united in their fierce determination to free the Orleans from English occupation. Whenever needed, these chivalrous and honorable freedom fighters selflessly answered Joan's call to arms.

There by the gate, Joan witnessed a mortally wounded soldier being carried in. He caught Joan's eye and the hideous sight sickened her. It took her a moment to recover from it and ask, "Who is he?"

"He is a Frenchman, poor lad", was the reply.

With great emotion, Joan sympathized, "May our Creator the Lord take good care of him. Never did I see French blood without my hair standing on end!" She couldn't take to sight anymore and spur her horse further on.

It turned out that a few officers and the city's militia, encouraged by Joan's presence and the arrival of reinforcements, had decided to attack the fort of Saint Loup on their own! Before Joan arrived, the inexperienced and untrained militiamen were getting the worst of it and are retreating before the enemy, who have sallied out face them, used to victories when 'witches' aren't around.

Before plunging into the battle, it struck Joan that she have forgotten her banner. "My banner! I forgot my banner!"

Then from behind her, Scatty called out, "Joan, your banner! Catch!"

Scatty tossed the banner and Joan reaches out, swiftly grabbing hold of the wooden staff before courageously charging headlong into the fray with her white banner raised high. The men took new heart at this sight and rallying to her side, fearlessly attack the enemy! A hundred people are shouting, "Make way! Make way there for the Maid of Orleans!" The first time that immortal name is ever uttered

The mass divided itself like the Red Sea(From the story of Moses) and down this lane, Joan went skimming like a bird while crying out, "Forward, French hearts! In God's name, forward! Charge!"

At the flourish of war trumpets, those who have followed her from the city, put spur to horse. Led by the great Shadow and at the speed of gale force wind, they galloped headlong to the midst of battle and with a shock of thunder, clashed steel-to-steel with their foes. The clang of their weapons mixed frightfully with their war cries as they rushed upon the English.

There in the thick of battle, Scathach is like the Grim Reaper collecting souls with his sharp scythe. With each broad swing of her steel blades, she slays great swaths of enemy soldiers. The English fought a retreating fight, but in a fine and gallant way. They drove them back foot by foot into their fort. The French suffered repulse after repulse, but Joan was there and everywhere, encouraging the men and keeping them to their work. They hacked and slashed and butchered at the enemy, until sweet victory was theirs!

250 English soldiers died that day. The English commanders knew it was over and tries to escape with their lives.

"All it lost! I know, lets go hide in the basement and hope they won't find us!"

"No, you twit! We will not run away, but shall disguise ourselves."

"Really? Seriously? I like my plan better." (Tee heh heh cowards)

Neverless, they broke into the fort's vestry room in an attempt to disguise themselves as priests. Joan came to the rescue just in time stop the French from massacring them. "Oh, no you don't! We must spare the churchmen!"

The soldiers protested, "Maid, these are no churchmen! They are only English in poor costumes!" Joan knew fully well that these English are not priests, but she do not want those who have surrendered to be killed. Therefore, she did not give in their demands for blood.

"No, I do not want their blood to be upon our hands! Take them out with the other prisoners, but don't hurt them. That's an order!" She commanded, and the men reluctantly obeyed.

The troops celebrated the spectacular victory by gutting the fort, taking all its stores and artillery, before ultimately burning it to the ground! When the men are shouting themselves hoarse with rejoicings, there went up a cry for the General, for they wanted to praise her, glorify her, and pay her homage for a job well done.

Joan, instead of rejoicing, burst into a torrent of tears at all the carnage and deaths that have been caused. She knew long before that this would happen, but what she imagined did not even come close to the true horror and gore of death. Just the stench of the bloody, rotten corpses is enough to make her sway in the saddle. She was so moved by the sight, that she seek out Father Jean.

In his pity for the dead and dying soldiers of both sides, Father Jean gave all the men lying on the battlefield a general and conditional sign off into the next life. Joan's face turns ashen as she and Count Dunois looks over the battlefield, strewn with dead and dying.

"War is not pretty, Joan. It is only a matter of life. We can't avoid it forever."

Joan's eyes are damp with tears. "This war...it's horrible! So many brave men have died, in the most cruel and painful ways possible."

Dunois, out of sympathy, placed his hand on he shoulder. "Yes, it's true that many have perished, but they were not in vain. For the day is ours, and that is most important!"

Joan wipe the tears away with a quick movement of her palm. She smiles weakly, though there is no humor in it. "Yes, the day is ours. That is good...but if only it could have been done without such bloodshed!" She then turn her horse away and begins heading back to Orleans.

As they ride back together, Scatty asked in concern, "Then Joan, if battle distresses you so, why did you go where the fighting is most fiercest?"

Joan's now misty blue eyes, which is still twinking with reflective water droplets, looks upon Scatty as she said, "Because, Scatty, if I, a simple girl, can remain at the front during a battle, then those of the army who don't will be shamed until doing likewise. Unlike the others, I am not here for some kind of vainglory. I act for God's will alone." Joan heaves a deep sigh as she attempts a smile. "It is my hope and prayer that if I ever die in battle, flames or no flames", she added with a rush, knowing that Scatty is about to bring up spontaneous combustion, "my sacrifice will inspire the soldiers of France to remain bold and steadfast until the Kingdom is free."

* * *

So Joan of Arc fought her first battle and have triumphed. All of Orleans is mad with joy! Her new name is on everyone's lips: she is the Maid of Orleans now. Between the first utterance and the last time it will ever be uttered on this earth...ah, think how many moldering ages will lay in that eternal gap!

Joan's first concern upon returning to the city, is to visit where the English prisoners are being held. She is appalled by what she sees! The room is nothing more than filthy, cold, and damp hell hole.

"Ugh! It smells dead in here!", exclaimed Scatty with disgust, earning her looks from the jail keeper. "I think I'll meet you back at the house, Joan. Right now, my advanced vampire sense of smell is killing me!"

The wounded had no blankets, nor did they received any food or water. It was almost genocide! Immediately, Joan flew into action, ordering those around her to bring all the blankets and food that could be spared. In the mean time, Joan took the effort to speak and interact with with the English captives. She wants them to as comfortable as possible, despite the poor condition of their cell, a concern belonging to no other commander.

Breathlessly, the jail keeper came running into the room. "Here is what you wanted, Maid. These were all that could find."

"Well done, my good man", said Joan as she took one of the blankets, and began to wrap it around the nearest shivering prisoner. She must have spent at least an hour with them, soothing and comforting them with her gentle and compassionate care. Before leaving the place, Joan gave the standing order that from now on, all prisoners are to be given the best care possible.

Once back at the Boucher house, Joan just plopped herself down in a chair and slumps. Scatty, who have been polishing her sword with a rag, takes notice and asked, "So...how are you feeling?"

Joan's head tilt lazily to the side. "Tired, extremely tired. The battle was exhausting."

Scatty grins at her friend's sluggish mood. "Well, you could be feeling worse if you had used your aura. Eat some vegetables, it will help you."

Just then, a group of irate captains comes storming into the room. They are led by that Sir Jean de Gamaches. Joan closed her eyes in frustration and cried, "Ahhh! What could they possibly want now? Why can't they just leave me alone?!"

"You!", shouted Gamaches angrily. "What the hell are you doing, giving _our _needed supplies to those Godons?!" Joan hotly glares at him as he went on with his rampage. "By your stupid actions, you are undermining the morale of the army! Don't you realize that if those prisoners survive, they will only rise up against us? It would be preferable to just let them rot away, or better yet put those unable to pay a ransom to the sword and be done with it!" The other captains pat his back while grunting their approval.

Joan, now standing in a prominent attitude, fired back at him, "Leave the English prisoners alone! Haven't they suffered enough in losing the battle? They are just as much children of God as you are , maybe more so seeing what kind of vile men you are!"

She advances upon Jean de Gamaches with a vengeance! "All I will say to you, sir, is that it's God will for us to help them! For if we fail to do so, He will abandon us and France will be lost! Do you really want that on your conscience?" She spoke no more, but stomps up to her room.

Seeing, that they aren't moving fast enough, Scatty took it upon herself to unceremoniously push all the men out at once. "Goodbye! See you soon! Well, miss you guys, no we won't!" She then slams the door shut behind her. "Man, I can't believe that Joan has to deal with these people!"

Believe it or not, this incident is only the first of many heated arguments over this subject, that erupted between Joan and the captains in the coming days.

**So that was Joan's first battle...and she almost missed it! Good thing she made it just in time, or they could have failed. Hooray they won! Yeah yeah yeah! So I'm just goint to tell you guys now, that Joan is sort of...bipolar when it comes to fighting. Like, during a battle she would be all pumped up and ready to go, charging headlong at the English, but then after the battle the sight of all the blood and dead bodies of people killed by senseless violence just makes her fall apart. She's really sensitive, you know, even though she's a great warrior and all.**

**As always, review, review, review, review, and last but not least...review!**

**Question of the day: How many siblings(brother/sister) do you have?**

**I have only one younger sister. Yep. Who wants to adopt her?! I'm cool with that! Please, please,please adopt my sister! I don't care, just take her away from me!**

***I see my sister standing nearby* Heh heh heh I'm just kidding! Love you, sis! **


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